#tyson jost writing

[ilyasorokinn]

sorokin - Josty taking care of you because you're worn out from a really bad headache

PRINCE CHARMING

hi! thank you for sending this in! this was actually the only ask i got for my celly. tumblr is weird also, so it might have been broken on my end, at least that's what i'm choosing to believe for my own piece of mind. n e ways, thank you for 3k and thanks for a great 4 years! love you all! we can also forget this celly ever happened because this is extremely embarrassing! <3

the moment you woke up, you felt a headache forming in the back of your head and desperately wanted to call out of work, but knew you couldn't.

you had a giant pile of work sitting in your inbox so you knew you would just have to push through it. tyson could tell you had a headache forming when you trudged into the kitchen.

"hey, you okay?" he asked, his brows furrowing together as he slowly made his way over to you.

"i'm good." you nodded, "just a small headache."

if there was one thing about your headaches it was that they were never just a "small" headache.

"you sure?" tyson wasn't convinced.

"i'm good." you nodded, flashing him a smile. he still didn't look convinced but didn't push it.

you went to work and tried to power through your day, but as the day progressed, things only got worse. you jumped when your phone rang and sighed when saw it was tyson.

"hello?" you asked.

"hi, honey!" you could hear the smile through the phone.

"too loud." you whispered.

"oh, sorry." tyson spoke quieter, "is it worse?"

"just slightly." you hummed, rubbing your temples, "i'm almost done through, just a few more pages," you explained.

"y/n..." he sighed.

"i'll be home soon, promise." you insisted.

"i'll be here." he sighed. you said your goodbyes before hanging up and quickly getting back to work.

by the time you pulled into your parking spot, you felt like you were gonna fall over. before you could even get out of your car, you saw tyson standing in front of your car, a sad smile on his face.

you couldn't help but smile as you opened the door, "hi."

"hi, honey." he smiled right back, wrapping his arms around you, "how're you feeling?"

"i think i need a wheelchair, tys." you breathed into his shoulder, "i think if i close my eyes, they aren't gonna open."

"let's go." he reached into the passenger side and slung your bag over his shoulder before picking you up, "you're so sweet. my prince charming." you gently poked his cheek.

"anything for my princess." he kissed your cheek, "oh, also, i got your favorite."

"tyson jost!" you looekd at him, "with extra cheese?"

"extra cheese hold the mushrooms." he nodded.

"wow, you are a prince." you kissed his cheek.

requests are open!

[laurenairay]

A reason to start over new - T. Jost

Summary: It’s been five years since Lucy has seen her ex-boyfriend Tyson. Can his grandparents’ Christmas party fix their broken hearts?

Happy birthday @senditcolton! This is my fic for your birthday bingo – I had a lot of fun with this one! I chose The Hand Touch, Exes to Lovers, Free Space (Resolved Angst), “You’re Too Good for Me”, and Winter Romance, making it a full bingo! Hope you have a wonderful day Nicole.

A massive thank you to @jostyriggslover96 for reading through this!

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, flashback to breakup, some bad language, self-deprecation.

Title from The Reason, by Hoobastank

~

I've found a reason for me, To change who I used to be, A reason to start over new, And the reason is you.

~

“Oh wow, Val and Jim have really outdone themselves this year, haven’t they?”

Lucy glanced around at the Christmas decorations surrounding them, smiling at her mom’s words.

“Full of holiday cheer, as always!��� she nodded.

She took off her thick coat and gloves, glad to be out of the icy air, hanging them up on the rack put out for guests.

“Now honey, if it’s too much, you can slip out back and head home, okay?” her mom said seriously, albeit quietly.

“You said that last year. And the year before that. For the last five years, actually,” Lucy mused.

“And I’ve meant it every year. They might be our neighbours, but you are my baby. And my priority, always,” her mom said seriously.

Not for the first time, Lucy was thankful to have the mom she did.

“And I appreciate it. But I’m going to be fine,” she said, smiling fondly.

“Alright, if you’re sure. You just send me a sneaky text if you change your mind though, yes?”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” Lucy beamed.

The Christmas Eve Party thrown by her neighbours was a tradition she’d attended her entire life, and even though she hadn’t dated their grandson in half a decade, Val and John had always insisted that she still came along. A lingering effect of being childhood sweethearts, she supposed.

“Amy! Gary! Lucy!”

The welcome from their neighbours was warm and effervescent as it always was, and soon enough Lucy found herself swept in by conversation and catching up. She may have gone to college in UBC Okanagan in Kelowna for both her degrees, barely away from home, but she’d lived in campus residence for all four years of her bachelor’s degree and moved out of her parents’ house properly into a small apartment near campus for her master’s degree. It would’ve been easy to move home after guaranteed accommodation ended, but Lucy had wanted to keep the independence she had grown to love, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t visit her parents at least every other weekend.

But it was still nice to be able to talk about her accomplishments with the people that she’d grown up alongside, especially now that she was in the final year of her master’s degree and looking like she was on track for starting the PhD she’d always aimed for.

After a couple of hours, she escaped the crowds in the living and dining areas, grateful for the sanctuary of the kitchen. There were a few plates of cookies and other Christmas treats laid out, and Lucy couldn’t resist reaching out for a snickerdoodle…

…at the exact time as someone else.

She jumped in surprise as a large hand rested on top of hers, not realising anyone was next to her, but as she looked up, she couldn’t but to freeze despite the warmth of his touch. Tyson. It was Tyson’s hand touching hers.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, I…Lucy?”

“Hey Tys,” she managed to breathe.

The familiar curls, the big beautiful eyes, the sweet smile, and now a little bit of stubble? He looked good. Of course he looked good.

Tyson quickly drew his hand away from hers, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Uh, you have it, I shouldn’t be eating baked goods too much anyway,” Tyson said, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

Lucy pursed her lips and broke a third of the snickerdoodle off, handing it to Tyson with a raised eyebrow. Tyson huffed out a laugh but accepted the offered treat, sending her a small smile of thanks. Fuck, it may have been five years since they broke up, but he really hadn’t changed, had he?

“So, uh, you still come to these parties?” Tyson asked.

Lucy bit her bottom lip but nodded.

“Yeah, your grandparents insist. I hope that’s okay,” she winced.

“Of course it is,” Tyson said quickly, “They always loved you.”

Well that was something at least. Why did this feel so awkward? Sure, it had been five years since she’d seen Tyson, but they dated from eight years – surely they had more than this?

“I don’t usually come to these. Well, I guess you already know that, if you come every year. I, uh, I have the 24th to the 26th off this year, so I didn’t want to miss another Christmas with my grandparents,” Tyson explained.

“I bet Val and Jim were over the moon when you told them,” Lucy mused.

Tyson laughed softly, nodding. “They were. Mom and Kacey didn’t hesitate to come to Kelowna to join us, so it’s a big family Christmas this year.”

“That’s great, Tys. Really. Spending Christmas with your loved ones is important,” she said softly, smiling.

His smile dimmed a little, but he nodded.

“How’s, uh, how’s your degree going? Gramps said you’re doing a master’s now?”

He knew that? Did he ask? Or did Jim just tell him?

“Uh, yeah. I graduated my bachelor's degree magna cum laude back in 2020 and went straight into starting my graduate program there. I’m a paid teaching assistant for my supervisory professor too.”

“That’s incredible, Luce. Still doing Earth and Environmental Sciences?” Tyson prompted.

He remembered? After all this time?

“Yeah, yeah it is. Focusing in on environmental impact assessment for my master’s thesis,” she nodded, a little stunned, “I didn’t think…I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Of course I remember. You were always so passionate about your studies – it was one of the things I loved most about you,” he said softly.

“Tyson…” Lucy said faintly, trailing off when no words would come.

He smiled sadly at her, shaking his head.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you,” Tyson murmured.

~

2019

“So you can’t make it over?”

“No, Tys, I can’t, I have labs to do,” Lucy sighed.

“We haven’t seen each other in so long!”

“I can’t just not go to my classes because you want me in Denver! You know this!” she groaned.

“I know, I know, but it sucks.”

Lucy frowned, even though he couldn’t see her. “You’re the one who didn’t come home for Christmas, remember?”

“The schedule didn’t make sense, and I offered to fly you down?”

“Tyson!” she groaned.

He stayed silent on the other end of the phone, a silence that sent an ominous shiver down her spine.

“So where do we go from here?”

“W-What?” she said, confused at the dull tone of his voice.

“Your priority is college, my priority is hockey, and neither of us can compromise. I would never ask you to compromise, just like you wouldn’t ask me. We have different priorities, clearly. So where do we go from here?”

“Tyson, are you really saying what I think you’re saying?” she whimpered.

“Yeah, I think we should break up.”

“We’ve been together for eight years! You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, the only guy I’ve ever wanted. And you want to break up, just like that?”

“I don’t want to break up, Luce. But what other option do we have? Neither of us can give the other what we need right now. We have to focus on ourselves, don’t we? For our own careers? You have so much ahead of you and I can’t be there to celebrate it. And you can’t be by my side cheering me on from the stands. I love you, Lucy. But this isn’t working anymore.”

~

“Tyson, why would you say it like that? You think it’s been easy for me?” Lucy asked, throat a little choked.

“No, no, of course not,” he groaned.

“Then what do you mean?”

“Look, forget I said anything, okay? It was really good to see you, Luce.”

Before Lucy could say a word, Tyson walked away, leaving her alone in the kitchen with her head spinning. What the hell was that?

For the final few hours of the party, Lucy indulged in a couple more glasses of wine than she intended, sticking solidly by her parents’ sides. She did her best to keep a smile on her face and ease into the Christmas festivity, even when Laura and Kacey said their hellos, but her mind just kept going back to Tyson.

“We’re going to start saying our goodbyes, okay honey? Why don’t you find all our coats.”

Lucy just nodded at her mom’s suggestion, grateful for the opportunity to escape the crowd. Well, she was grateful, until she saw Tyson sitting on the bench next to the coat rack, face flushed and eyes glassy. He was drunk, at least moderately so.

“Ah, fuck, I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he said, voice slurring.

What did he mean by that?

“I’m just getting our coats. We’re heading out,” she murmured, trying to ignore the whoosh in her stomach.

“Already?”

“It’s nearly midnight, Tys,” she said, smiling wryly.

“Well, fuck. Time flies when you’re having whiskey, I guess,” he groaned, putting his empty glass on the bench next to him.

She huffed out a laugh, unhooking the coats when she finally spotted them.

“You look good, Luce,” he murmured, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

“I do?” she blurted.

Damn it.

But Tyson just grinned. “Yeah, you really do. You always looked good, but damn you’ve really settled into your own skin, eh?”

“I love who I am, yeah,” she nodded.

She wasn’t lying, or even placating. Her studies in environmental impact had opened up a whole new side of her she hadn’t even realised was there, and she loved everything about the person she’d become through it. She just hadn’t realised it was obvious on the outside.

Then again, if anyone was going to notice something like that about her, it was going to be Tyson, wasn’t it?

“You’re too good for me.”

Oh fuck.

“That’s not true. Not even slightly,” Lucy said, frowning.

“No? I can barely get a team to keep me, and you’re soaring ahead with your academic career, just like you deserve,” Tyson scoffed.

This was just the alcohol talking. It had to be.

“Tys, those teams are the ones missing out. You’re amazing,” she said softly.

He paused for a moment, before shaking his head.

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

Because he had to put hockey first.

Because she had to put college first.

Because neither of them were each other’s first choice.

“That’s not fair, Tyson. We were kids when we first started dating. Barely 13 years old. And we were together for eight years! We had an incredible relationship! It just…we wanted different things. Our priorities were different, our passions were different – we might have grown up together, but we’d also grown apart. Your life is hockey and my life is academics, and that’s okay! That doesn’t mean we didn’t have love, yeah?”

The way that Tyson’s eyes filled up with tears made her own eyes water, dangerous lump rising in her throat.

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

His soft words tore a sob from her throat and she shook her head. How could he be so cruel?

“Don’t say that. We made the right decision five years ago and you know it,” she whimpered.

Tyson’s face fell at her devastated expression, and he staggered to his feet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he said sadly.

And yet here she was, broken hearted all over again.

“I should go. I need to go,” was all she could manage to choke out.

“Lucy, baby, please…”

But Lucy just shook her head, clutching the coats in her hands, shaky smile on her lips as the tears finally fell. “Merry Christmas, Tyson.”

~

“So what happened at the Christmas Eve Party that has you all torn up like this?”

Lucy flinched at her mom’s voice, turning her head to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

“Uh huh, and I’m a fairy princess,” her mom snorted.

Lucy couldn’t help but giggle, earning a fond smile as her mom walked into the room and sat down next to her on her bed. Lucy placed a bookmark in the book she’d been reading to give her mom her full attention. She’d needed a little respite from all the preparations to hold her dad’s family for a late lunch, after all the intensity of having her mom’s family over yesterday on Christmas Day, but she’d found herself reliving her conversation with Tyson over and over.

“Sounds like…it sounds like everything was worth it for you.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“If I’m so amazing, why did we break up?”

“If I could go back and change it all, I would. I’d choose you. I’d always choose you.”

So really, her mom coming up to talk to her was a welcome break from all of that as well.

“If you know it was the Christmas Eve Party then you can take a guess,” Lucy said, shrugging.

“I’d rather hear it from you, when Tyson’s involved,” her mom mused.

Well at least her mom was blunt about it.

“We had a couple of conversations, and it stirred up old emotions, old drama. He…mom, he said he’d go back and change it all if he could. That he’d always choose me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

Her mom blinked a couple of times, lips parted in a surprised, before she coughed out a laugh.

“Well I could never accuse Tyson of being subtle.”

“Mom, seriously. This is stressing me out. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Lucy groaned.

“I think that’s an answer in itself, sweetheart,” she said softly.

“What?”

Her mom stayed silent, just nudging Lucy with her shoulder, and Lucy nudged back out of habit. What did she mean, that was an answer in itself?

“Lucy, honey, if you can’t stop thinking about Tyson choosing you above everything else, that means something,” her mom eventually said with a huffed laugh.

“But how can it? He still has his hockey, and I still have academics. Neither of those are going to change any time soon,” Lucy said sadly.

Because at the end of the day, that was the bottom line of it all. Their priorities haven’t changed.

“Just because your both still have your passions doesn’t mean that they have to be your only love. You can have both,” her mom said firmly.

What?

“How can I have both?” Lucy asked, confused.

“Do you love him?” was all she said.

“What?” Lucy said, surprised.

“Do you love him?” her mom repeated.

Lucy opened her mouth, shutting it again before huffing out a laugh. There was only one answer to that.

“Yeah, I never stopped,” she replied.

“Then you can have both. You spent the last five years missing him, and I know damn well that that boy missed you too - neither of you deserve that for another second. You can have both,” her mom said decisively.

She could have both?

How could she have both?

“You love him.”

“I love him,” Lucy whispered.

“Go get him.”

Lucy whimpered as she looked into her mom’s eyes, but she only saw warmth and encouragement. Her mom was right. She loved Tyson. She loved Tyson and if seeing him again this Christmas had taught her anything, it was that she was stupid if she tried to deny how much she missed him. If she didn’t tell him now, when would she?

“He leaves today. I need to go now,” she said suddenly.

“Well damn, okay then. Put on a sweater and I’ll find your snow boots,” her mom grinned.

Lucy felt like she was in a haze as she walked as quickly down the street as was safe, heart pounding as she spotted Tyson loading bags into his grandpa’s car.

“Tyson!”

His head whipped around at her shout, eyes going wide as he saw her walking towards him. Tyson shuffled down the driveway, missing Jim’s fond smile as he himself went back into the house, and the moment that she was standing in front of him, Tyson cupped his hands over her elbows to steady her.

“What are you doing here?”

“I love you,” she breathed.

Tyson whimpered, but Lucy wasn’t discouraged, not when she saw the wonder that filled his expression.

“You love me?”

“I love you. I love you so much and I can’t stop thinking about everything you said the other night,” she blurted out.

“Luce, I’m sorry, I know I upset you but…”

“No, Tys, it’s okay,” Lucy said, shaking her head as she interrupted, “While I stand by what I said, that we made the right decision at the time, maybe we could make a different decision now?”

“What are you saying?”

She could understand his hesitation, really she could. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t coming out with this out of the blue, after five years of nothing at all. After five years of heartbreak and heartache. But her mom was right – she missed him so fiercely and she couldn’t bear the thought of him not knowing that.

“I want us to start over new. I never stopped loving you, not for one moment. We could have both. We could have our passions and our love, and I hate that it’s taken me this long to even consider that? I miss you and I love you and I know you’re heading to the airport to fly back to Raleigh, but tell me I’m not crazy for thinking we could do this?”

Tyson’s jaw dropped as he processed her long rant, and it was only his firm grip on her elbows that stopped her from giving up hope.

“That was a lot,” Tyson said.

She winced. “I know, but…”

“And you poured out a lot of emotion there,” he interrupted.

Lucy kept her mouth shut this time, as much as she wanted to beg him to say more.

“It’s been agony for five years, for so many reasons, but hearing you say that you love me and you want to give our relationship another shot? I just…”

Tyson trailed off, letting out a long breath.

“I understand if I’m too late,” she murmured.

But Tyson huffed out a laugh, raising one hand from her elbow to cup her face in a gentle motion that had her breath hitching in her throat.

“There is no world in which you’d be too late,” Tyson said softly.

“Really?”

“I love you too, Lucy. I never stopped either,” he murmured.

She couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that tumbled from her lips, smiling back up at Tyson as he smiled at her.

“We’re really doing this?” she asked, giddy.

“Yeah, baby, we are. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, or what it’s going to look like, but we’re both adult enough to know how to put in more effort this time round right, yeah? I’ll fly home for the all-star break, and I’ll fly you out for spring break, and we’ll have video calls that neither of us are going to miss. And everything else. We’re going to make it work this time,” he said, tone serious but face grinning.

“And we’re going to communicate, yeah? When one of us is finding it hard? We’ll find little compromises, as we can’t do the big compromises. We’re worth it,” Lucy added, not caring that her cheeks were aching with her smile.

“Yeah, we are. I love you, so much Lucy,” Tyson grinned.

“I love you too.”

Tyson didn’t waste any time in leaning down to press his lips to hers, their last first kiss.

[senditcolton]

maybe this Christmastime, you'll realize

song inspo: santa doesn't know you like i do word count: 3k warnings: none, just pure holiday fluff (christmas centric)

a/n: i'm back!! and what better way to celebrate the conclusion of my graduate degree by giving you all a barely edited, written last night, self-indulgent fic to feed my delusion of Tyson Jost being madly in love with me. glad to be back and can't wait to write for you all again!!

The heat that blasts from the oven is a welcome sensation, considering that your old apartment often struggled to keep in the warmth from your central heating. You lean in, your oven mitt clad hand reaching and grasping the cookie sheet.

You’d be the first to admit that you weren’t much of a baker. That was never your ‘job’ during holidays with your family. But you figured you would try this year since you wouldn’t have the opportunity to enjoy the homemade goodies your family crafted.

That was the reason you chose to bake cookies. The reason you chose to bake almond butter cookies was because of someone else. Someone who also wasn’t able to enjoy the comforts of home this year.

As if he could hear your thoughts, a knock echoes through your apartment. You quickly finish transferring the cookies from the still hot baking sheet onto the cooling rack before wiping off your hands and running towards the front door. You swing open the worn wood and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips when you see Tyson standing there.

“Hey. Happy Christmas Eve Eve.”

“Is that the official name?” he laughs, walking into your apartment like it was his own. Which considering how often he was over at your place, it might as well be.

“You haven’t seen that episode of Friends?”

“Guess not,” he shrugs, taking off his coat. “Smells nice in here.”

“Thanks. I tried my hand at baking.”

“And you didn’t burn the apartment down?” he smiles and you wish you could stop the way your knees weaken at the sight.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You better be nice to me or else you won’t get any almond butter cookies.” This time, you didn’t want to stop the trill of your heart at the way his eyes brightened at your words.

“Almond butter?”

“Yeah,” you nod towards the kitchen, a silent invitation for him. He took your encouragement in stride, breezing into the other room and you were thankful that he was out of earshot when you said your next words.

“I made them just for you.”

You did. You also opened your home to him, welcoming him any day during this, the week of Christmas. But that was just because you didn’t want him to be lonely. That was all. That was the only reason.

It definitely wasn’t because of the crush you had been harboring for him since the first day you met.

No, absolutely not.

You take a deep breath before following Tyson into the kitchen, turning the corner only to find him already munching on a cookie, a grin on his face and some crumbs stuck on his facial hair.

“I know they’re probably not as good as Grandma Jost’s but –” Tyson cuts you off with a gentle call of your name.

“Stop. These are delicious. You did a really good job.”

“Thanks,” you say. It’s only then that you spy the backpack that he carried in with him, one that was now placed on your kitchen table. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” Tyson says, as if he just remembered it himself. You are even more curious when you see the blush spread on his cheeks, the rosy color having nothing to do with the lingering cold from outside. “I need your help.”

“Okay?”

“You mentioned that you were in charge of wrapping presents at your house for the holidays. And I’m really bad at it. I mean, usually I struggle through it or just put everyone’s gifts in bags…”

You gently interrupt his explanation with a laugh of your own, your brain goes over all the gifts Tyson has given you; mostly presented to you in gift bags.

“But since I can’t go home this year, I kind of want to – I don’t know – make more of an effort. Make it more exciting for whenever my family does get their presents. If that makes any sense.”

“That makes perfect sense, Tyson,” you reply. “Sit. Eat your cookies. I’ll get the wrapping paper.”

Only a few short moments pass before you find yourself sitting next to Tyson, wrapping the stockpile of presents he brought over and listening to him talk about anything and everything: details about the gift you were currently wrapping, his shopping adventures, the hockey season so far, friend and family updates, anything. You occasionally interrupt with questions about how he wants the presents decorated but he gives you a lot of creative freedom which you slightly admonish him for.

“Tyson, they should feel like they’re from you.”

“I’ll pick out the bows.”

That was how you continued, your focus on the folds and creases of the paper in front of you while Tyson talked.

You had gone through most of the gift he presented to you, your concentration entirely on the folding and taping that you perfected long ago. Tyson had gone quiet for a moment but you weren’t that concerned as you were still able to hear him rustling around in the bag that held all your bows, finding whatever color he chose for the current gift. You are just about to put the last piece of tape on when you feel Tyson’s fingers gently press against your head.

Your eyes snap back to him, only to see that adorable crooked grin on his face. You are pretty sure you knew what happened and your thoughts are only confirmed as you reach up and feel the paper of the bow pressed onto your hair.

“Is this the one you want for this gift?”

“It looks pretty cute on you,” he says and you once again have to force yourself to take a deep breath before your body acts of its own volition, revealing your feelings in probably the worst way.

“I’m sure it’ll look much better on the present,” you quip, taking it off your hair and replacing the tape before sticking it onto the silver paper. “Ta-da!” You push the present off to the side, adding to the slowly growing pile. “What’s next?”

You turn your attention to Tyson, but this time, he’s the one distracted. His fingers tap against his phone,  typing out few quick messages, a small grin appearing on his face occasionally. You wait for a few minutes, just watching him until he feels your gaze and looks up towards you.

“Huh?”

“Which present is next?”

“Oh, last one,” he says, pulling the final gift out of his backpack and handing it to you. “This one is for Kacey.”

“Was that who you were texting?”

“No um, that was Mikayla. She’s this girl I matched with on a dating app a little while ago. We’re just getting last minute details ready before our date tonight.”

His words give you literal pause as your scissors stall on the wrapping paper, your smooth precise cut turning into a jagged edge.  

“Tonight?” you ask, your question answered with an affirmative hum from him. You try to act nonchalant, a shrug lifting your shoulders as you attempt to focus back on the task at hand. “Seems a little odd – so close to Christmas.”

“Yeah, but it was the best day for her and I don’t have anywhere else to be, y’know?”

You try not to let his words sting, knowing he doesn’t mean them maliciously. He wasn’t with his family and you were just a friend. He didn’t have any commitments because he wasn’t committed to you. That was the simple truth.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, forcing your attention onto the cherry red wrapping paper in your hands; the one thing you could control. “I think a gold bow would look good on this one.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Tyson replies, typing out one last quick message before diving back into the bag to find the color you requested.

A few short minutes later, the presents are wrapped and placed back into Tyson’s pack, safe and ready for their return to his apartment. You watched from your couch as his throws his coat over his broad frame before swinging the backpack onto his shoulder.

“If you want, you can always come over tomorrow. I need some help finishing off those cookies,” you playfully tease, trying not to let your heart get too attached to the idea of spending Christmas Eve with him next to you.

“I might take you up on that,” Tyson says, shooting you a gentle smile before opening your door and leaving, the chill sneaking in from the outside and finding a way to wrap around your heart.

You know you had no right to be upset. Tyson wasn’t yours. He didn’t know the way you felt about him and there was no certainty that he would even share your feelings. He might only ever see you as a friend and if that was the case… he should be free to find someone who does love him.

But there was this stubborn part of you that couldn’t imagine anyone else loving Tyson as much as you loved him. You’ve been there through the good and bad. You knew his favorite songs. You knew how to make him laugh. And you would always pick up when he called.

Who else could say that?

You sigh, gently telling yourself that there was nothing you could do about it tonight.

Perhaps Christmas Eve might bring forth some holiday magic. Or maybe you should just throw in the towel, pray for New Year’s to come quickly so you could leave this heartache behind along with the holiday season.

You weren’t sure which to wish for so you just crawled into bed, feeling bluer that ever before as you fell asleep, trying not to think of someone else’s lips pressed against Tyson’s.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The lights in the tree blurred as you try to hold back you tears. You always seemed to cry during the holidays; you never really knew why. It just always came about this time of year. ‘Tis the season, right?

But this year, you could pinpoint the exact person that caused your tears to fall. Tyson Jost. The worst part about it was that it wasn’t even his fault that you were crying. It was all yours.

You woke up after a listless night of sleeping. When you went to check your phone, you hoped to see a message from Tyson but to your disappointment but not surprise, there was no notification on your screen. You managed to roll yourself out from underneath your covers and go about your morning routine before sending a text to him, saying that you hoped his date went well and that the offer to come over tonight was still on the table.

That was over twelve hours ago and all you received was radio silence from him.

Perhaps that is why you found yourself curled up underneath your tree, staring up at the lights in the boughs, trying to push back tears. It was a stupid reason to cry just like it was stupid to fall for your best friend. Stupid to think that he could ever see you as anything more. Stupid to think that maybe this Christmas would be the one where it all changed.

Stupid to spend your money on a new watch, wrap it up for him with a note documenting your feelings in the hope that he would open it tonight, here, underneath your tree while you both ate the cookies you made specifically for him.

Your fingers trace over the silk ribbon, fidgeting with the bow as the minutes tick by, your hope dwindling with them.

The receipt for it was still in your closet in one of your purses. You could return it on Tuesday, pretend like you never had this grand scheme and go back to being friends with Tyson. Give yourself another year to get over him. Maybe next year you finally would.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you spare one last glance down at the parcel in your hands before placing it back underneath the tree with all the other presents that your friends and family had sent to you.

It was a silly idea, an almost childish Christmas dream and now, you had to wake up. Tyson was dating other people and sooner or later, he would find someone who could give him everything you could and possibly more. Perhaps he found her last night and woke up this morning to her curled up in his arms and that feeling of love just struck him and if so, there was nothing you could do and –

The knock on your door startles you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hand hitting a few ornaments hanging down from the branches. You quickly grab them, stabilizing the fragile decor before you lift yourself off the floor, your blanket pooling beneath you before you wander to the front door.

You had no idea who was knocking at this time of night but you must have been too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to care because you opened the door without a second thought. It took you a minute to fully register the person standing on your doorstep but when you saw those chocolate curls and those big brown eyes, you feel a sense of calm sweep over you.

Tyson always pulled that feeling from you. Even when he showed up unannounced on Christmas Eve.

Although you were happy to see him, the expression on your face was one of confusion. Why was he here, now, without a word of warning, after ignoring you for almost a full 24 hours? You are about to ask those questions but before you could get a word out, Tyson speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

His words catch you off-guard, the meaning behind them not yet clear to you.

“For what?” you ask him. Your breath shallows as he turns his gaze to you and you are struck by the earnestness reflecting in his eyes.

“For not seeing you,” he replies, stepping over the threshold of your apartment and closer to you. “For not seeing how wonderful and amazing and beautiful you are.”

“Wha – what’s happening?” you question, his words sending shockwaves through your body.

“I think a part of me always knew; that you were the one. But I ignored it for whatever reason. Fear, indifference, whatever. But last night, when I was on a date with another girl, all I could think about was you. How you make me laugh, make me smile. Pick me up and encourage me when I’m down. Do silly inconsequential things for me without expecting anything in return.”

Tyson continues to speak, becoming more assured and confident with every word, punctuating each sentence with a step closer to you.

“How you went out of your way to make cookies that remind me of home so I would feel less alone this holiday season. No one else has done anything like that for me.”

You had to be hallucinating or dreaming or something. This felt straight out of goddamn Hallmark movie – it couldn’t be real life. It was a fantasy brought on by sugar and heartache. But when Tyson reaches out to you, gently grasping your hands in his, you can feel the warmth of his touch run through you, warm and as real as it ever was.

“And I realized last night, alone in my bed, that I didn’t need the cookies, the presents, the bows and ribbons to feel like I was home,” Tyson confesses, his voice becoming softer as he pulls you closer. “Whenever I’m with you… that’s when I’m home. You are home to me. And I’m sorry for not being able to tell you sooner. I’m sorry it took this long for me to realize it.”

Tyson silences, looking into your eyes and you know he’s waiting for your answer but you were still trying to fully understand this whole situation. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the man in front of you, the man that you had a crush for almost an entire year, just came to your house in the middle of the night and confessed his feelings to you.

Your body slightly jumps at the sound of your front door closing, the breeze pulling it shut but Tyson gently rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands, soothing you. A small jingle of a bell sounds from above you, brought on by the gust of air from the door. The noise pulls both you and Tyson’s attention away from each other towards the ceiling and you feel your cheeks warm at the sight of the green leaves with white berries, tied together with ribbon, hanging above you. The warmth intensifies as Tyson turns his gaze on you once again, that mischievous look in his eyes.

“Mistletoe? Really?”

“It’s tradition,” you mutter, your tongue finally being able to twist itself into words.

“Well, it is Christmas after all. I guess we shouldn’t break tradition,” he grins.

You force yourself to breathe as Tyson leans closer to you, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel his forehead press against yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your cheeks but his movements stall and when you don’t feel the gentle press of his lips against yours, you slowly reopen your eyes.

Tyson is still standing there, his lips only mere centimeters away from yours. It’s only then that you realize you’ve never given him a response to his confession. Haven’t yet told him that it was everything that you had been hoping to hear from him. But how could you possibly respond when it didn’t feel like there were words in the English language to describe the depth of your feelings?

The answer was simple.

You respond by lifting yourself up those final inches and pressing your lips against his. You pour every emotion you felt into that kiss and you could feel a piece of you settle when Tyson kissed you back with as much passion.

And you knew that this – wrapped up in Tyson’s arms underneath the mistletoe, his lips against yours – was the best present you could have ever received this year.

[jostystyles]

i don’t know why i am, the way i am.

[buttercupjosh]

The Journey of Loving You

(Gif credit to @mattymartin)

Word count: 4,376

Genres: strangers to lovers, fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: I've had pieces of details of this fic in mind for a few months and I had a difficult time figuring out who to write it with so I ended up choosing to give Josty another fic. It is not intended to be a sequel to star-crossed (which you still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). It did take me awhile to get this fic done because I decided to write other stories before completing this one. This story is based off of the songs “Not a Bad Thing” and “Mirrors”, both by Justin Timberlake and the title is something I came up with. It did take me awhile to get this fic done because I decided to write other stories before completing this one. I also have a bunch of other songs linked throughout the story and I highly recommend listening to them when you come across them during reading. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It's taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it's set in the future and this season. However, the season is still ongoing at the moment and anything can happen or change so don't hold me to what occurs in the fic and if things do change (ex. Tyson goes to another team), I'm not going to update this fic to reflect that). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“I want it all with you and if I'm coming on too strong, it's 'cause I've waited far too long for someone just like you” -“Share Your Address” by Ben Platt

In your role as the social media manager for the Buffalo Bills, you got to interact and meet with many different types of people. You would have never imagined that something as simple as doing your job would lead you to meet the love of your life. During the Bills season, some of the Buffalo Sabres players had come by to watch a game and you were responsible for capturing their experience at the game. Through mutual connections in the industry, you knew the social media manager for the Sabres but you only watched hockey occasionally. Before the game started, the guys were given a tour of Highmark Stadium and you were trailing around as the guys made their way around your workplace. Throughout their time there, you had noticed that a particular curly-haired hockey forward named Tyson Jost kept being close to you; as one of the few single guys left on the team, his teammates were shifting around and nudging him to talk to you. Tyson walked at a much slower pace to keep up with you instead of with the guys. He asked you a lot of questions and it was a bit odd to you that Tyson was more interested in paying attention to you than the football stadium tour was occurring. Tyson seemed curious about you, which you thought was cute, but you couldn’t quite be as flirty with him on the clock. The tour was only for an hour and concluded at the sidelines before the game officially started. You still had a lot of work to do since it was gameday so before going back to your office to review the content you acquired and what the team photographers captured, you discreetly exchanged numbers with Tyson to talk to him later on. During half-time, you checked your phone quickly and saw a text from Tyson that read “Thanks for answering all of my questions back there, I appreciate it. Can I ask you some more over coffee sometime?”. You were slightly taken aback by him asking you out so soon but you weren’t going to let that opportunity slip away so you agreed to go out with Tyson. 

On your first official date, Tyson forgot to bring flowers because he was nervous. You didn’t mind that he forgot and understood his nervousness. Over drinks and pastries from Five Points Bakery, Tyson asked you a lot of questions because he was so enamored by you and you got to ask him a lot of questions in return: you even made each other laugh a few times. The conversation flowed so easily and effortlessly from topic to topic. As you chatted, for some reason, it felt like you had known each other for so much longer. The time that you spent together went by so fast that you ended up closing the bakery. Neither you nor Tyson wanted the date to be over so you ended up strolling around the leaf-riddled streets of Buffalo, making a stop for some additional fun at Lock and Key Escape Room and popping into Mythos for a last-minute dinner date. After dinner concluded, you mutually agreed to call it a night. You learned a lot about each other in the hours that you spent together that day. By the time the date officially ended, all Tyson had wanted was to see you again the following day and whatever days he could after that; you felt the same way. He walked you to your car and before going your separate ways, you shared a long goodbye embrace; a kiss would be saved for the next date. Speaking of which, on your next date, Tyson brought you flowers for the first time, and for the rest of your relationship, he would never forget to get them for you ever again. 

With the both of you working in sports, your schedule was never really consistent but despite that, you and Tyson still kept in constant contact and made time for each other whenever you could. You would go to some of Tyson’s games and some team events and Tyson would always hype you up on Bills gamedays. You even surprised Tyson once at an away game; the Bills had a bye week so you flew out to Boston to cheer him on. Whenever your schedules aligned in Buffalo, you and Tyson would go out on different dates around the city and suburbs; these dates were always guaranteed to be an enjoyable time and all of those dates eventually turned into a deeply committed romantic relationship. 

Being loved by Tyson and loving him was like your dreams coming true; your relationship worked well because you admired each other so much and neither of you could imagine being with anyone else. You were both used to people making promises to you and turning around and breaking them, used to giving your heart to others and they just cut you and leave you bleeding all over the place. However, this relationship was different and all you had to do was try; this time, trying paid off well because being together made those realities not true anymore. The relationship you shared was determined to heal you both from those who had hurt you in the past and you both felt safe with each other. You were worth the challenge of mending together a broken and tender heart for Tyson; his heart was ignited for you and he would do everything in his power to continue to pursue you and you only. Your relationship also had no moments of wasted time or any broken promises and you were always honest to each other. You both had waited so long through dating around and heartbreak for the right person to come along into each other’s lives but the wait was worth it because you ended up together. Falling in love wasn’t a bad thing at all; as expected, it was scary to give your heart to someone else but like a rollercoaster, it was also thrilling and exciting and you got to fall into the arms of someone amazing. Of course, things weren’t always sunny and there were some setbacks and struggles while you were dating. You and Tyson did disagree and argue sometimes but you could compromise when needed; you also had to balance your relationship with the demands of your job and Tyson constantly being either home or away but being with him was worth those challenges. Like anything in life, there would be a moment that would test how strong your relationship is.————————————————————One Saturday afternoon, you and Tyson decided to get ice cream after Tyson was healthy scratched from that afternoon’s game. Unfortunately, the person who served the ice cream used the same scooper that was used to scoop ice cream with nuts in it and you had an allergic reaction. Thankfully, you had an EpiPen in your bag and used it to help you. Your symptoms began to slowly subside but the instructions mentioned that you should visit the ER if used so Tyson took you. The ER doctor put you on an IV and decided to keep you overnight for observation. Tyson begged the doctor to let him stay in the room with you and they surprisingly agreed, even though you weren’t married and common law marriages weren’t a thing in New York. You were so grateful that Tyson stayed with you instead of leaving to go sleep in his comfy bed and just picking you up whenever you were discharged, not having to deal with the nurses and doctors coming in and out of the room throughout the night, interrupting whatever rest he got in that uncomfortable hospital chair. You were awake and observant for a while but you eventually drifted off to sleep. Tyson was tired but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep because he was so worried about you. As he saw you lying in the hospital bed, Tyson thought to himself that you should never have to go through any sort of health crisis alone. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to be there all the time but he would be there for you as much as he could. This whole experience opened up Tyson’s eyes to realizing that he wanted to share your address and move in together and also to be your emergency contact. 

To say that Tyson was in love with you was a bit of an understatement; he was so smitten about you and everyone around him could pick up on that immediately. Tyson would see things that would remind him of you and his heart would swell with so much joy and the light in his eyes shined differently whenever he talked about you. Tyson truly and deeply loved you so much that he couldn’t lose you. His heart would beat so fast whenever you were around or if someone mentioned you and you were the one that he adored. To him, it felt like days would go wasted without you in them. He wanted a house with kids running around that shared both of your traits, to travel across the world, and grow old, all with you. In that moment, Tyson privately vowed to himself that he was going to marry you one day.

Months down the line, after waiting for your lease to be up and for the hockey season to be over, you and Tyson rented a house together. Living together meant that you got to see each other a little bit more frequently, which you both liked. You settled into a comfortable routine with Tyson and had mild complaints about your cute roommate; sharing a space wasn’t so bad. Tyson got to cook for you, serenade you on his ukulele, and slow dance in the kitchen with you as often as he could. You got to taste all of Tyson’s recipes, annoy him with your purposefully bad singing, and wake up next to him on the rare days you were off together. You and Tyson even began hosting a monthly trivia night at your home with your friends and some of Tyson’s teammates. Moving in together also meant that you were around to help Tyson whenever he was injured and always there to comfort him after a disappointing healthy scratch or game loss as well.

Combining your lives together meant that your families would mix at some point. Tyson’s mother, Laura, visited frequently and came down for the Sabres’ Moms’ Trip and stayed for a week afterward so you got to know her more and she got to know the person her son was so lovestruck about. You also got to meet his sister, Kacey, when his mother returned for Christmas and also brought Grandpa Jost along. You had a good relationship with Tyson’s family; they adored you and liked you with him. In regards to your family, your parents only came to Buffalo once in a while and you would go back to your hometown for holidays but your parents talked Tyson through video calls and knew how much he meant to you.

While you were still dating, your parents ended up contributing to a significant memory for Tyson and you weren’t even there. When the Dads and Mentors Trip came around, for some reason, Grandpa Jost couldn’t be there for his grandson so your dad flew out to Buffalo to accompany Tyson on the trip. This was going to be your father’s first time meeting Tyson in person and it was intimidating at first but that intimidation faded away as your dad and Tyson got to know each other. Tyson was so thankful that your dad took the time to be there for him. Before returning to Buffalo, Tyson had asked your father for your hand in marriage and your dad agreed to let his little ray of sunshine shine their light into someone else’s life. If there was anyone else in the world that he would walk his precious child down the aisle to, your father was glad that Tyson would be the guy on the other side.————————————————————After getting your father’s approval, calling your mom to get her blessing, and telling both of your family and friends about it, it was time for Tyson to propose. Tyson arranged a fun scavenger hunt for you around Buffalo during the NFL off-season and at the end of the NHL regular season. This scavenger hunt was bittersweet because Tyson was going to be a free agent that upcoming off-season and there was no full guarantee he would return to play for the Sabres so you both prepared for the likely possibility that you would have to move away for Tyson to play with a different team. It was going to be hard to leave behind the place that you both called home and also your job but you would follow Tyson wherever he would go. Thankfully, you still had some time left to hang out with your friends and former co-workers before leaving for the off-season.

The scavenger hunt started with an index card on the fridge that read: “Good morning, my love. Look for the next clue inside our home on a masterpiece hanging above.” Tyson had gone golfing with his teammates for what could be the last time so these little notes were the only communication you had with him that day and you read all of the clue cards in his voice. You found the next note that read on top of a painting you made: “Remember when we went to that art class and you painted the most beautiful sunset? Go to the visitor’s desk at Buffalo AKG Art Museum to find out the rest.” 

You headed to the Buffalo AKG Art Museum and the guide at the visitor’s desk handed you an envelope with a prepaid admission ticket inside; there was also a sticky note inside that read “Your reflection is a work of art. Go to the mirrors exhibit and see how your beauty captured my heart.” The heat rushed to your face as you read Tyson’s note; he wasn’t there but he still made your heart skip a beat through his words. You headed straight to the mirrors exhibit and took a bunch of cute photos while you were there. After the mirrors exhibit, you continued to look around the art museum and ran into Danielle Okoposo, Kyle Okoposo’s wife, while you were there. She mentioned that she was visiting the art museum because her kids were taking an art class there and told you to stay with her until the class was over because one of her kids had the next clue for you. You didn’t wait long for the kids to come out and all of the Okoposo children showed off to their mother and you what they had created in class. Livia, the youngest Okoposo daughter, gave you a personalized drawing of you and Tyson with a lot of hearts on it. Written in Livia’s youthful handwriting, the back of the drawing read: “As you can see, we are surrounded by lots of love, and no matter what happens, that will always be true. Head to Five Points Bakery for a snack pickup and your next clue.” You departed from Danielle and the Okposo children and headed to the spot where you and Tyson had your first date.

The bakery wasn’t as busy when you went to pick up your order; although Tyson had already placed the order for you, you still picked up a sweet treat for your sweetie as a reward for all of the things he’d done with this scavenger hunt. Your next clue card was inside the bag with your order that stated: “After my snack has had their snack, don’t be perplexed by my request for you to ask your parents for where to go next.” You followed Tyson’s instructions and your mom texted you: “Summer is approaching and we can’t wait to see you soon so go to the Botanical Garden where the flowers bloom.”

The Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens was a special place to you and Tyson; it’s where you celebrated your first year of dating with a cute couples photoshoot and also had membership to the space. Your favorite part of the Botanical Gardens was the koi fish pond so of course, you would find your next clue taped to the back of the bench near where the pond was. “I know you’ve been out for hours but I have you running around for a reason. Now, go home, there’s something fun that we need to do before we go to Canada for the off-season.”, the clue card read.

You went back home; all of the nostalgia from visiting some of your favorite spots around Buffalo made you feel both happy and sad at the same time. Even though the scavenger hunt was a final trip for you to go to the places you enjoyed in Buffalo, you wished deep down that Tyson would have been there to experience them with you for one last time. Tyson still wasn’t back yet and his location indicated that he was at a restaurant near the golf course; you tried to call and text him throughout the day to check on him but he didn’t answer at all. You walked into your bedroom and saw a note on the closet door that read “You’re going to want to dress your best for this next part (as the kids say, make sure your look serves) and when you’re done, meet me at Tifft Nature Preserve.” The last part of the note confused you because the nature preserve would be closed by now but you showered, got ready, and went there anyway. 

Inside the Tifft Nature Preserve Education Center was a trail of lights that led you to a projector with a Kahoot game, ready to be played. Tyson, looking handsome in a crisp polo and jeans, was surrounded by blankets and snacks. You hadn’t seen or heard much from him the whole day so it was nice to see the face of the man that you loved.

“Tyson, you did not ask me to dress up and drag me all this way to play trivia when we could do it at home or go to trivia night at the bar.”, you stated.

“This might be our last time playing our monthly trivia game in Buffalo so why not go all out?” Tyson responded.

Trivia was amusing as expected and you won the game so you asked Tyson what your prize was; your prize was Tyson was going to sing you a quick song on his ukulele. The notes sounded familiar to you and then you recognized what your lover was serenading you to.

“Cause I don't wanna lose you now, I'm lookin' right at the other half of me. The vacancy that sat in my heart is a space that now you hold. Show me how to fight for now and I'll tell you, baby, it was easy, comin' back here to you. Once I figured it out, you were right here all along. It's like you're my mirror, my mirror staring back at me. I couldn't get any bigger with anyone else beside of me. And now it's clear as this promise that we're making two reflections into one.” Tyson sang during the chorus of Mirrors by Justin Timberlake. The lyrics were right for describing your relationship with Tyson; you were separate individuals but your relationship intertwined you together and also allowed you to change for the better as people. Music was something that was important to both of you and Tyson had sung to you several times before, including love songs, so this wasn’t much of a surprise to you. After he concluded singing, Tyson handed you over one final clue card that simply read “Will you marry me?”.

Tears of joy began to fill your eyes and Tyson was down on one knee, holding out your dream ring. The sun was going to set soon so the golden hour sunset hue coming through the windows was a nice natural touch to the proposal. You had thought Tyson was going to propose on your planned trip to Banff that summer so this was definitely a huge surprise. You were both speechless because there just weren't enough words to describe the feeling of love that was flowing between the two of you at that moment. After over a year of dating, you were moving on to the next step of getting married and like the lyrics of the song said, merging your two reflections into one. After your engagement/farewell dinner with some of the Sabers players and their families, you and Tyson returned home and had an impromptu dance party in the living room with your new fiance to “Let’s Get Married” by Bleachers, “Slow Dance” by Saint Motel, and “Just The Two of Us” by Grover Washington Jr. featuring Bill Withers. Your time in Buffalo was coming to an end but it ended in the best way.————————————————————Just as you both suspected, the Sabres did not choose to offer Tyson a contract so he ended up signing on a short-term NHL contract elsewhere as a free agent and you moved away from Buffalo. Tyson was used to moving away and starting over more than you were but you both knew that home would always be wherever you were with those that you loved. The move and the wedding planning did add some additional stress to both of you but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. You both adjusted well to your new life in your new home city; you had good relationships with the other WAGs and their families and continued your career as a social media manager for a local sports team. Tyson meshed great with his teammates, got more ice time and his play improved. You and Tyson rented a house again and added a dog named Maverick to your little family.

The wedding planning time went by in such an exciting and enjoyable blur and before you both knew it, it was time to marry the love of your life. You and Tyson decided on a destination wedding at a Four Seasons Resort in Florida. Both of your families helped out with the wedding in the many different ways that they could and were delighted to unite together on behalf of your love. It was also nice that all of your friends and some of Tyson’s former teammates were there for your special day as well.

The details of your wedding day were so beautiful and perfect; your something new was a diamond necklace given to you by the Jost family, your something borrowed and something blue was a blue bracelet from your mom that she wore on her wedding day to your dad. You floated down the aisle with your father by your side to meet with your soon-to-be husband, waiting for you in his black tux. Tyson saw you, walking towards him, and he got a little emotional. Tyson’s parents’ relationship didn’t work out and he was terrified to face a similar doom in his life but being with you restored his faith in relationships and marriage. Seeing Tyson cry made you tear up too but everyone knew that those were happy tears. Even though there was an audience of other people in the room, it felt like you and Tyson were the only ones there. Your vows to each other were like the most poetic song lyrics and were sealed with a sweet kiss. You had dreamed of your wedding day for a while, unsure who would be the one to greet you at the altar but finally, you knew.

Your first dance as a married couple was to the Mariah Carey and Luther Vandross cover of Endless Love (originally performed by Diana Ross featuring Lionel Richie), which was considered one of the greatest duets of all time. Like the vocals in the song, you and Tyson debuting as a married couple to a duet made sense because you were complementary to each other and brought out each other’s strengths. The rest of your wedding was spectacular. You danced the night away to a variety of tracks from a carefully curated playlist, enjoyed delicious food, took plenty of photos, laughed, and happily cried a few more times too. You also both mixed and mingled with your guests and were swept into all different directions around the venue.

Towards the end of your wedding and before you walked out to say goodbye to all of your guests, Tyson pulled you away for a surprise private dance as newlyweds. You and Tyson would get plenty of time alone together on your honeymoon in Greece but the private dance without the pressure of any other eyes on you was much appreciated. You swayed back and forth with your husband to “All My Life” by K-Ci and Jojo, “You’re Still The One” by Shania Twain, and “This I Promise You” by *NSYNC, and sang along to all of them together. Just like the lyrics in the songs had said, “All my life, I’ve been waiting for someone like you” (“All My Life” by K-Ci and Jojo), “we’re still together, still going strong” (“You’re Still The One” by Shania Twain), and “and with this vow, forever has now begun” (This I Promise You” by *NSYNC), all that you had been waiting for, for so long was right in front of you and it was true that your forever love was just getting started. In a whisper, you asked to play a song and chose “Because You Loved Me” by Celine Dion as the final song for your private dance. The song served as a thank you to each other by summing up the journey of your relationship so far and how your love helped you both grow as people. Getting married allowed you to write a new chapter in your love story. You made it this far as a couple and there was so much to look forward to in your future together.

[blueskrugs]

Written in the Sand | Tyson Jost

it’s finally here! I started this fic in September, thinking it would be a cute couple thousand words, and then finally finished it four months and almost 30,000 words later. 

huge thank you to @antoineroussel​ who held my hand through a lot of this and also did the hard work of beta reading and editing all of this. 

recommended listening: Written in the Sand by Old Dominion (where else would I get title and inspo from?), Colder Weather by Zac Brown Band, and The Dance by Garth Brooks.

length: 29.8k words (lol)

this fic has now been broken into chapters for easier reading 

Are we written in the stars, baby, or are we written in the sand?

Tyson never meant to catch feelings. Really. It was supposed to be a one-night stand. Then it happened again, and again, and somewhere along the line it turned into regular hooking up. And, well, anyone would tell you that Tyson wore his heart on his sleeve. It wasn’t long before he was falling fast and hard. 

Tyson looked across the couch at where she was dozing, wearing one of his T-shirts. His birthday was in a few days. He’d already resolved to ask her out for real before then. This stupid not-quite-friends-with-benefits shit was getting old. It needed to end one way or another, for Tyson’s sanity—and his heart. If he was going to get his heart broken anyway, why prolong the inevitable?

But he was getting ahead of himself. 

November

It’s early in the season, too early to be celebrating wins the way they are. But they blew out the Canucks and the Sharks in consecutive games and don’t have another one for four days, so Gabe dragged them all out to a bar. There’s something special about this team, Tyson can feel it, and so can the rest of the guys.

Which is how Tyson finds himself a couple beers and a shot or two deep on a Saturday night in November, with JT squished against his side in the booth. The team is extra loud to account for the fact that they’re in a crowded bar; EJ is across the table chirping Andre about something or other. Tyson settles in and takes another drink of his beer. 

JT elbows him in the ribs. Tyson elbows him back harder on principle. 

“No, idiot, there’s a cute girl over there,” JT says.

“You have a girlfriend,” Tyson says, not following. He tries to figure out which girl JT is talking about, but there’s a lot of girls in the bar. 

“You don’t,” JT points out, and, oh. 

“I’m not really looking for anything,” Tyson says, because it’s true. Especially not some hookup with a girl in a bar. He doesn’t really roll that way. He really wants to focus on having a good season here. He still doesn’t know which girl JT is talking about.

Gabe, the nosy asshole, leans over Cale to give his two cents. “Josty, I think you need another beer.”

Tyson glares at his unfortunately almost-empty beer bottle. He glances over at the bar again. This time, a girl catches his eye and gives him a small smile over her friend’s shoulder. She is kind of cute, Tyson supposes. Tyson heaves a sigh and elbows JT again to force him out of the booth. A small cheer goes up. He flips them off without turning around. 

It’s even more crowded at the bar, but Tyson manages to squeeze in near the girl and lean against the bar while he waits for a bartender. The person on his left leaves with their drink, and then he’s next to the girl. He wishes he knew her name. She smiles at him again. 

He’s about to lean in and introduce himself when a bartender comes over and asks for his order. She’s smirking at him when he turns back.

“All the beers in the world, and you’re drinking Coors?” she asks. She has to lean in close to be heard, and Tyson doesn’t mind it. He makes an outraged noise, which only makes her grin grow. “I’m Madison,” she says. 

“Listen, Madison,” Tyson starts, but he doesn’t actually have a great argument. He’s just not very picky when it comes to beers. He closes his mouth. Madison laughs at him and takes a sip of her drink. “And what’re you drinking, huh?” Something with a lime wedge on it. Red, maybe. The dim lighting makes it extra hard to see colors.

“All beer is gross, first of all,” she says. “Second of all, it’s a vodka cran.”

“Can I buy you another?” Tyson asks. Her glass is less vodka cran and more ice at this point.

On Madison’s other side, her friend groans. Tyson probably deserves that. Madison rolls her eyes at him. He deserves that, too.

“Real smooth,” she says. Tyson winks at her. “I don’t even know your name,” she points out. Oh, yeah.

“I’m Tyson,” he says. He sticks out a hand for handshake, and Madison takes it, though she raises an eyebrow and laughs at him again as she does it. 

“Okay, Tyson,” Madison says, “you can buy me a drink.” Tyson thinks she sounds amused. 

Tyson fist pumps and turns back to catch the attention of one of the bartenders again. 

Drinks procured, Tyson loses track of time as he chats with Madison, as much as they can over the din and constant jostling. By the time they’re both finished, Madison’s pressed close to Tyson’s side. She’s looking up at him expectantly. 

Fuck it, Tyson thinks. He leans close and settles a hand on Madison’s hip. “Can I take you home?” he asks.

Madison slides a hand around the back of his neck. Her nails scratch the curls at the nape of his neck, and Tyson suppresses a shiver in a warm, crowded bar. 

“God, I thought you were never going to ask,” she says. 

Some of the guys are still posted up at tables in the corner. He’d forgotten about them. He hears a few jeers over the din of the crowd, and he flips them off with the hand that’s not clutching one of Madison’s. 

“Friends of yours?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at the cluster of rowdy hockey players, letting Tyson drag her towards the door.

“Unfortunately,” Tyson says, once they’re safely out the door, and he can talk at a normal volume again. “Can I kiss you?” he blurts, pausing in trying to fish his car keys out of his pocket.

Madison laughs again, but it’s not mean. Tyson likes it, the way she already seems comfortable teasing him. She doesn’t answer, instead just slides her hand around Tyson’s neck again and pulls him down to kiss her. Tyson’s dizzy with the feeling of her lips warm against his, there in the middle of the sidewalk. He makes himself pull away.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

Madison lets Tyson keep a hand on her thigh as he drives, edging up under the hem of her shorts. He’s dying to be able to kiss her again. She lets him as soon as she’s out of the car and pressed up against the passenger door. Then again, in the elevator until they’re both breathless, and even more once they’re safely inside Tyson’s apartment. Against the front door, tripping over themselves down the hallway, and, finally, finally, twisted up in Tyson’s sheets. 

Madison stirs next to Tyson, knocking him out of his bask in the afterglow. Her hair, once nicely curled, is a mess. Tyson’s probably doesn’t look much better, actually.

“I should go,” she whispers.

Tyson wants to argue. To tell her she can stay. But that’s too much, too strange. He rolls over to kiss her again, instead. She pushes him away with a soft giggle.

“Not helping,” she says. She sits up. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, course,” Tyson says, nodding too hard. Madison slips out of bed and collects her clothes. If Tyson watches her ass as she goes, who’s to blame him?

He’s dozing when she re-emerges, fully dressed and a little less disheveled. 

“Can I get your phone number?” Tyson asks without thinking. That’s not what this was supposed to be. He told JT he wasn’t looking for anything just a few hours ago. He just knows he wants to see Madison again.

She hesitates. Tyson understands. 

“I’d really like to see you again,” Tyson says, maybe too honest for a hookup, but it’s late. He can’t be blamed for the things he says after 1 AM. “And it’s late, I’d sleep better if I know you got home okay.”

Tyson can see the moment she gives in. Madison sighs and steps closer to the bed, but there’s something soft in her eyes when she looks at Tyson. 

“Where’s your phone?” she asks. Tyson reaches for his bedside table out of habit. His phone never made it there in their haste to get into bed. He turns back to face Madison, sheepish.

“I don’t know, actually.” Probably still in the back pocket of his jeans, but he can’t remember if he stopped to take it out and set it somewhere, either. 

Madison sighs at him again and shakes her head. Tyson watches as she scoops his jeans off the floor and digs through them before coming up with his phone. He probably should have done that himself, but Madison tosses it at him before he can push the sheets away from where they’re pooling at his waist. Tyson isn’t expecting it and fumbles the phone. He has to dig it back out before he can unlock it and toss it back to Madison. 

She catches it with ease, and Tyson sticks his tongue out at her. Show-off. She ignores him, thumb swiping idly through his apps until she finds his contacts. She types for a moment, oddly serious. Her own phone vibrates in her other hand. She throws the phone back at Tyson. He doesn’t drop it this time. 

He unlocks his phone to see that Madison’s made herself a contact—just her first name and a smiley face typed out— and texted herself—a little blue bubble that just says, tyson.

She checks her phone again. “I really should go,” she says softly. “My ride’s here,” she adds.

“Wait,” Tyson says. He reaches out a hand, wraps his fingers around her wrist when she steps closer and tugs her down so he can kiss her one last time. “‘Kay, now you can go,” he whispers.

Madison cups his cheek and gives him one quick peck, then she’s out the door.

Tyson’s not quite asleep when his phone vibrates next to him, and she slaps at it, squinting at it in the dark. A text from Madison reads, home x. Tyson falls asleep smiling. 

He almost expects that to be the end of it. He knows he said he wanted to see Madison again, but he’s not sure either of them are going to follow up on it. The Avs’ schedule gets busy—away, then back home, then gone again.

But it happens again. Tyson’s high on another win when he dials Madison’s phone number. It rings long enough that Tyson thinks she’s not going to answer.

“Hello?” Madison says, startling Tyson. 

“Oh,” he says. He didn’t think he’d get this far. 

“Tyson?”

“Are you busy tonight?” he blurts. It’s a Saturday night, he’s expecting her to say that she’s going out with friends or something. Tyson’s just getting home from the game himself. 

He’s surprised when she says, “Not really.”

“Oh,” Tyson says again. He pulls his tie off over his head and tosses it aside. 

“Tyson? This is a booty call, isn’t it?”

“Uh. Maybe?” Tyson says. “Is it working?” Tyson surveys his apartment. He’d cleaned before leaving for Dallas, and he’s barely been home long enough to make a mess again. Though, his unpacked suitcase is exploding in the corner of his room where he dumped it when they got in late the night before. 

“God, you’re so bad at flirting,” Madison says. Unfortunately, she’s endeared by it. “I can be there in like thirty minutes, text me your address.” 

Tyson fist pumps when he hangs up the call. He frantically texts Madison before going to change into sweats. He’s fidgeting restlessly on his couch when Madison calls him again thirty-six minutes later. 

“Can you let me up?” she asks.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” he says. He doesn’t bother with shoes, just swipes his keys from his kitchen island and heads downstairs.

Madison’s waiting awkwardly in his lobby when Tyson steps off the elevator. She spots him and grins when he waves at her. She wants to hug him, for some reason, when he approaches her, but that’s not what they are, so she settles for taking his hand and twining their fingers together when he reaches out for her. 

Tyson doesn’t pin her against the elevator wall to kiss her after the doors close behind them, but Madison can tell he wants to. She squeezes his hand, and Tyson pulls her into his side.

“Little excited, huh?” Madison teases, looking at Tyson’s feet.

He wiggles his socked toes and grins at Madison. 

“Well, duh,” he says. The elevator doors open again. Tyson all but drags Madison towards his apartment. He’s kissing her before the door is shut all the way. They stumble over to Tyson’s couch, and Tyson’s pulling Madison into his lap before he’s even settled. She lets him kiss her for a few minutes before she pulls away.

“Is this going to become a thing every time you guys win?” she gasps. 

“You know who I am?” Tyson doesn’t ask, resting his forehead on Madison’s shoulder to catch his breath. “You watch hockey?” he asks instead. He’s not sure it’s a better question than the one he didn’t ask. 

Madison twists her fingers in the hair at the base of Tyson’s neck. “Not avidly. I really didn’t know who you were the first time, but my friends and I were out the other night, and I saw you on TV.” She tugs a little on his hair, and Tyson tilts his head back to look at her. She’s watching his face closely, waiting for his reaction.

Tyson’s relieved, in a weird way, that she didn’t know who he was when they hooked up the first time. He’s just not sure how he feels now that she’s back in his lap, and evidently knows he plays for the Avalanche. Madison’s unwavering, looking steadily back at Tyson. 

“What, so you’re just fucking me because I’m a hockey player now?” he jokes, or tries to joke. He thinks it falls flat.

Madison laughs. “No, you idiot, I’m fucking you because you’re kinda cute.” She rolls her eyes, and Tyson pouts a little. “I told you, I didn’t know who you were the first time. I’m not chasing anything, Tys. Besides, if I were chasing hockey players, I’m sure there are single Avs players who score more goals,” she teases.

“Hey, I scored a goal tonight!” Tyson protests. 

“I know, baby,” she says, kissing him quickly. 

“Did you look up my stats?” Tyson asks, distracted. 

“I like you, okay?” Madison says, ignoring him. “Wouldn’t be here for any other reason.”

Tyson has to kiss her again. They don’t end up making it to the bedroom. 

“Do you have to go?” Tyson whines, watching Madison sit up and search for her clothes. Tyson thinks her T-shirt ended up behind his couch.

Madison pauses. Tyson’s curls are a disaster, and Madison kind of wants to mess them up more. “And what exactly would we do if I stayed?” she asks, eyebrows raised. She threads her fingers into Tyson’s hair, tugs once, because she can. 

Tyson blushes a little. “I dunno, watch a movie?” Madison makes a face. Tyson’s phone got buried in the couch cushions, and he fishes it out to look at the time. “Okay, I guess it is kinda late.” Tyson’s stomach growls. “Do you want to order pizza?” he asks instead. 

Madison finds her shirt and checks the time on her own phone. “I really should get home,” she says, apologetic. “I hate getting Ubers late at night.” 

“You can spend the night,” Tyson says without thinking. At the look on Madison’s face, he says instead, ”Or, I could drive you home. Whatever.” 

“‘Whatever,’” Madison scoffs, shaking her head. But she grins at Tyson and pulls her shirt over her head. Tyson briefly mourns the loss of her bare chest. “I guess I could go for pizza,” she says. 

“Wait, for real?” Tyson asks. He realizes he probably sounds too eager. 

“Don’t make me change my mind,” Madison warns, but her smile is playful. 

She’s still standing next to the couch, and Tyson has to pull her back into his lap. She giggles as she settles across Tyson’s thighs. He kisses her cheek, the corner of her mouth, before she turns her head and captures his lips with her own. They kiss for long minutes, Tyson doesn’t know, time slowed down and unimportant. That is, until Tyson remembers he’s hungry and has to pull away. 

“Pizza?” he asks, somewhat nonsensically, panting a little. 

Madison kisses him again. Tyson tightens his grip on her hips, but pushes her away. “As long as you order pepperoni.” She slides off Tyson’s lap and slumps onto the couch next to Tyson.

Madison suddenly realizes that she’s tired, her eyes feeling heavy as she watches Tyson order pizza. She considers for a second, before carefully poking him in the ribs with her toes. Tyson doesn’t flinch. Madison stretches and settles with one of her feet across Tyson’s lap. He drops his hand to her ankle without looking down, thumb rubbing small circles across the bone absently. Madison closes her eyes and dozes. 

She’s woken up again by Tyson gripping her foot and shaking it. She’s melted further into the couch cushions, bones heavy with exhaustion. Tyson smiles at her.

“Pizza’s here, babe,” he says softly.

Sure enough, there’s a pizza box resting on the coffee table. It smells enticing enough to rouse Madison the rest of the way. She reaches a hand out, intending for Tyson to give her a piece of pizza, but he wraps his fingers around hers and pulls her to sit up. She leans into Tyson’s side. He laughs quietly and drapes an arm across her shoulders. Madison could probably fall back asleep like this, Tyson warm and solid next to her. Tyson hands her a slice of pizza, and Madison’s actually too hungry to resist. 

Tyson turns on some show on Netflix while they eat. Neither of them are paying much attention, but it fills in the silence nicely. It’s cold and dark outside, the city of Denver sleepy, but inside Tyson’s apartment, it’s cozy and warm. 

It’s dangerous waking up next to Madison the next morning. It’s something Tyson could get used to far too easily. Madison’s still asleep when he rolls over in the early morning light. She’s rolled over to face him in her sleep, face soft and hair a mess. Tyson’s not sure what time it is. He should maybe get up, but he’s not in any rush. 

Madison blinks awake to find Tyson watching her. She rubs at her eyes and rolls onto her back.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” she mumbles. She turns her head back to look at Tyson. 

Tyson grins lazily back at her. “You, duh.” 

Madison facewashes him. Tyson grabs her wrist and wrenches her hand away, cackling. “You’re the worst,” she says over his laughter. 

Tyson scoots closer and sticks a foot in between Madison’s legs. No ulterior motive, just wanting to be close. Okay, maybe a teeny bit of ulterior motive: Tyson’s toes are cold. He’d wheedled Madison into wearing a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt before they’d fallen asleep. She looks like she belongs in Tyson’s bed. 

Madison watches Tyson closely as he settles back in. She tries to read the expression on his face, the small smile on his lips. She’s not sure what any of it means.

“So what next?” she asks softly. Two hook-ups and a sleepover does not a relationship make. 

Tyson knows what she’s asking. He runs through their upcoming schedule in his head. They’re about to leave for a week. That’s about as far as he gets. They can worry about all that later. All he knows that he wants, no, he needs to see Madison again. 

What he says now is, “Breakfast?” 

December

Madison doesn’t hear much from Tyson for a while after that. It’s not like she expected to, really. She knows the Avalanche went on another long road trip, and it’s not like they need to be texting each other constantly. 

Madison finds herself checking the Avalanche box scores after each game. Tyson gets two goals while they’re gone. Not that she’s counting, or anything. 

Tyson means to call. He really does. Or even text some. But in the air somewhere over Canada, he realizes he’s never actually talked much with Madison. He doesn’t know anything about her, unless you count what she’s like in bed. He’s never been good at small talk, or the talking phase. Which, when he thinks about it, is probably why he’s still single. 

It’s not until he’s staring down three and a half weeks of nothing but practices that Tyson picks up his phone again. 

Madison answers faster than he’d expected. “You’re not bored already, are you?” she asks. “It’s only been two days since you had a game.”

It’s only been one day since their last game, actually. Tyson whines into the phone. “Yes, I’m bored, okay?” Madison laughs at him. Tyson makes a face, even though she can’t see it. “We never get this much time off, it’s weird,” he goes on. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a smart boy, Tyson,” Madison teases. “Went to college and everything, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

That’s not to say that Tyson doesn’t have ideas, and he thinks Madison knows what he’s angling for because she’s not a fool. She’s really going to make him work for this one. 

“I mean, I guess I could watch some movies or start a new TV show,” Tyson hedges. 

“Watch The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogies,” Madison says absently. “Could get you through a good couple of days.”

Tyson takes his opening. “You could always come over and watch them with me,” he says. 

Madison groans, as if they both didn’t see where this conversation was going. “You’re terrible,” she tells him. 

“No, really, we can just hang out,” Tyson says. And if hanging out leads to other things, well. “Don’t you have teammates you can hang out with or something?” Madison asks, skeptical. 

“I see them literally every day”—Madison laughs again—“and I want to see you,” Tyson adds. “Really.” 

Madison pauses on the other end of the line. “Fine,” she says finally. “Should I pack a bag?” 

Tyson freezes. He hadn’t gotten that far in his scheming. Never considered Madison would even want to spend that much time with him this weekend. He’s quiet long enough that Madison says something.

“Tyson?” she says softly.

Tyson shakes himself, tries to get his brain back online. “I, uh, I mean. I guess? You can, if—if you want?” he stammers. It’s Friday afternoon. He still has some practices over the weekend, but the long break between games suddenly seems less daunting with the prospect of Madison staying over, staying in his bed.

“I’ll be over soon, okay?” Madison says. 

Tyson isn’t sure if he manages to say anything else before she ends the call. Fuck. He’s getting the sense for the first time that he’s in over his head. He isn’t so sure he minds, actually. 

The weekend passes quickly once Madison’s there, though Tyson swears time slows down when he’s with her. They do actually end up watching The Lord of the Rings movies—which Madison had proudly produced from one of her bags, along with several packs of microwave popcorn, which had sent Tyson into a laughing fit— in between falling into bed (or the couch, more than once) and Tyson dragging himself out of the apartment to get to skate. 

“We really should do The Hobbit first, since those come first chronologically, but other than the first one, they’re not as good,” Madison explains at one point, gesturing with a handful of popcorn. Tyson just nods. “And we could have probably had a proper marathon and watched all the movies, but that’s like twenty hours, and I figured you had other plans, anyway.” She looks sidelong at Tyson, one eyebrow raised.

“You’re kind of a nerd, you know that?” Tyson asks later, breathless from making out. He’s pressing Madison into the couch cushions, their legs tangled together underneath a blanket. He’s aiming for light, teasing, but he’s not sure he quite gets there.

Madison tugs on the hair at the nape of Tyson’s neck. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.” Madison’s smirking a little. 

Tyson absolutely does like her anyway. It might make him like her more, actually.

Madison’s standing at the kitchen counter with the last of her coffee on Sunday morning when Tyson comes up and presses himself against her back, pinning her in place. He presses a kiss to the spot where Madison’s neck meets her shoulder. Madison tilts her head to the side some. With better access, Tyson drags a line of kisses down her neck and across the top of her shoulder.

Madison sets her coffee mug down on the counter with shaky hands before she drops it. 

“Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Tyson mumbles into Madison’s skin. 

From this angle, Tyson can see the hickey on Madison’s collarbone from the day before. He’s got one to match, somewhere. He wants to get his mouth on it again, make it darker, make sure it’s there for days. 

Tyson feels it more than he hears it when Madison laughs. She reaches up and drapes an arm backwards over his shoulder, holding him in place as much as he’s pinning her. 

“Sorry, bud, but some of us have to get back to the real world,” she says. She doesn’t make any effort to move. 

Tyson bites her shoulder, gently, but pulls away. “Same time next week?” he asks next, only half a joke. 

Madison turns around and looks at Tyson. “Tyson, next week is Christmas.”

“Fuck, is it?” Tyson tries to remember what day it is. His family is coming to town this year. He should probably put some effort into decorating his apartment, then. 

Madison just shakes her head at him. Tyson wonders if his mom and Kacey will be able to look at him and know what’s going on in his heart. 

Tyson’s apartment feels empty without Madison in it when he gets back from practice later that afternoon. She’d filled in all the quiet spaces Tyson didn’t realize it had—a spare throw blanket strewn across the couch, her makeup bag overflowing on his bathroom counter, an extra set of dirty dishes in the sink. 

He misses her. More than he should, probably. Huh.

This was never supposed to be anything. Just a hook-up from the bar. Now Madison’s spending weekends at his place, and Tyson wants to see her all the time. He should’ve seen it coming, maybe. He’d never been good at flings. 

He thinks about calling Madison, but that seems like too much. He’s been told he can be too much, sometimes. He puts his phone back down, flops face down onto his couch for a while, instead. 

Tyson spends the next few days doubling down on getting ready for Christmas. He had, in fact, forgotten that it was coming up so soon, and he still needed to get presents for his grandpa and sister. He digs out his meager box of Christmas decorations and sets them up around his apartment. It’s not very much, but it does go a long way towards making the apartment feel a bit more like home. 

He holds off on texting Madison until Wednesday. He shouldn’t have; his family’s flying in later this evening. They’ll be in town all week, and Tyson might actually go insane if he can’t see Madison, get his hands on her again until after the new year. 

If Tyson ends up picking up his family with sex hair, well. They probably didn’t notice. He’d shoved a ball cap on, anyway, though Kacey still raised her eyebrows at him in the rearview as she slid into the backseat next to their mom. He’d flip her off if he could, but his grandpa is right there.

Tyson makes it through the holiday without an interrogation from his mom and sister, but he knows it’s coming. The blanket Madison had left behind is still laying across the couch, and Kacey’s been curled up under it more often than not. Madison texts Tyson on Christmas morning, a simple merry Christmas! with a heart emoji that has Tyson grinning stupidly at his phone. Kacey clears her throat loudly, on the floor next to Tyson. He feels himself blushing as he fumbles to lock his phone and drop it face down next to him. His mom and sister share a look over his head. 

Madison texts again a few days after Christmas, asking if Tyson wants to grab lunch and hangout. Tyson does, obviously, but he has to figure out how to dodge his family for a few hours, first.

“I’m gonna go workout, I think,” Tyson announces. He needs to find his shoes, a water bottle. He is restless, too many days off in a row. 

Kacey looks up from her computer. “Oh, can I come? I’m supposed to be working out over break, too,” she says. 

“Uh,” Tyson says, trying to stall. He should’ve thought this through better. Kacey raises an eyebrow at him. “I was actually hoping for some time alone, y’know?” Kacey’s other eyebrow raises. 

“Are you saying you’re tired of us?” his mom asks, teasing. 

Tyson’s phone vibrates in his pocket. Madison again. He hasn’t had a chance to respond to her yet. He hates lying to his mom, but he still says, “Yes? No?” Tyson’s never been one to need space. “I just—”

“It’s okay, Tys,” his mom says gently. “Have a good workout, sweetheart.” 

Tyson doesn’t linger, grabbing his coat and shoving his feet into the first pair of shoes he sees on his way out the front door. He texts Madison that he’s on his way in the elevator. He does pick up lunch for both of them, too, on his way over to Madison’s place. He’s thoughtful like that. 

It takes just about all of Tyson’s self-control to actually sit next to Madison on her couch and eat first.

“How’d you ditch your mom and sister?” Madison asks eventually, eyes still on the TV, playing some random Hallmark Christmas movie. 

Tyson swallows. “Told them I was working out,” he admits.

Madison turns to smirk at him. “Working out, huh?” she asks, laughter in her voice. 

Tyson nudges her knee with his foot. “It’s not entirely a lie,” he points out. His lunch is practically finished anyway, so he sets it aside and slides closer to Madison. “I think they’re on to me, though.” He never could hide anything from the people he loves. 

Madison swings her feet into Tyson’s lap. She’s still eating, and Tyson’s about fifteen seconds away from taking her lunch from her and just kissing her. His leg bounces—his restless energy has only gotten worse since landing on Madison’s couch—until Madison digs her heel into his thigh, forcing him to stop. 

She’s looking at him carefully. “Would that be such a bad thing?” she asks. “People knowing about us?”

Tyson considers. It’s not like there’s anything to keep a secret, really. He realizes that no one even knows that he and Madison had hooked up more than just that night at the bar. He hadn’t realized how close he’d been keeping them to his chest. 

Madison’s still waiting for an answer. Tyson squeezes her ankle where it’s still draped across his lap. “I guess not, actually,” he says. 

Madison grins at him and, finally, finally, sets aside the remnants of her lunch. Tyson slides his hands up Madison’s legs, underneath her thighs, and drags her into his lap, finally, finally, getting his mouth on hers. 

Kacey and his mom are waiting for Tyson when he sheepishly slips in his front door an hour later. Kacey’s smirking, leaned up against the counter with her arms crossed. Tyson could kill her. He tugs the collar of his hoodie up, hoping it covers the hickey Madison left on his collarbone. 

“Good workout, Tys?” Kacey asks. Tyson flips her off. Even their mom smacks her arm in reprimand. 

“Great, actually,” Tyson says, allowing himself a moment of smugness in spite of his embarrassment. He hopes he’s not blushing. Kacey laughs. 

“If you’ve gotten yourself a girlfriend, Tyson, you know you could always bring her around,” his mom says gently. Tyson winces. He really hates lying to his mom. And he definitely could not just bring Madison around.

“Yeah,” Kacey chimes in, “I want to meet whoever’s got you sneaking around like an idiot.”

“She’s not—it’s not like that,” Tyson rushes to say. “We’re taking it slow, I guess.” He’s definitely blushing now, his face warm under the matching gazes of his mom and sister. He forces himself to shrug, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket. “We’re just…friends,” he finishes lamely. 

Kacey and his mom pin Tyson with matching pitying, yet disbelieving looks. Tyson hunches his shoulders, nervous underneath their gazes. He thinks of Madison telling him that it’s okay if people know about them. Thinks about having to tell his mom and baby sister that he’s just fucking around with a girl he thinks he could fall in love with, given the chance. He decides against it, for now. 

Tyson shrugs again. “I mean it,” he says. “It’s not really anything right now. I don’t know.” 

He escapes to his bedroom for a shower and to bury his head under a pillow for a while, until he feels like he can face his family again.

The days seem to pass more slowly after that. Tyson works out—for real, thank you very much— and watches way too many cooking shows with Kacey, curled up under a mountain of blankets on the couch. Tyson doesn’t know the last time he got to spend this much time with his family during hockey season. It’s nice, even as he starts getting restless again, anxious to be back on the ice with his teammates. 

There’s a team New Year’s Eve party at Gabe’s. It’s pretty chill, especially as far as team gatherings go, but Tyson maybe has a little too much to drink. He’s surrounded by happy teammates with their significant others, and he’s maybe feeling a little alone. He cracks open another beer.

It’s almost midnight when Tyson sinks onto a couch next to JT and slips out his phone. No notifications. He doesn’t know what he expected. Madison had posted on her story earlier in the night that she was celebrating with friends, too. Tyson stares at his phone for a moment. 

miss you, he carefully types out. It takes him longer than it should to get it right, drunk as he is, squinting at his phone and concentrating really hard on hitting the correct keys.

Madison responds quickly, way faster than Tyson had expected her to. The typing bubble appears almost immediately. Tyson waits.

miss you too tys, it says. Then, please drink some water. 

“Who the fuck is Josty texting?” EJ yells from across the room. Tyson realizes that he’s been smiling stupidly down at his phone. He makes to lock it and put it back away, but he’s not fast enough. JT grabs Tyson’s wrist and wrenches it around so he can see his screen. 

“Who’s Madison?” JT asks, quieter than EJ. He lets Tyson lock his phone, finally.

“She’s—” Tyson pauses. He doesn’t want to say that she’s no one, because that’s not really true. He doesn’t have any other word for her, either.

JT’s been watching Tyson’s face carefully. He knows better than anyone that Tyson isn’t good at hiding his emotions, and something must be showing on Tyson’s face now. JT’s eyebrows raise. 

“Is that the girl you brought home from the bar like a month ago?” JT asks. Tyson hesitates, pulling his hand free from JT’s grasp. Tyson’s hesitation is enough. “Oh my God, are you still fucking her?” 

Tyson winces. It sounds crass when JT says it like that. “We’ve hooked up a few more times,” he admits. JT doesn’t need to know about the number of times she’s slept over, too.

JT laughs at him, shaking his head. “‘Not really looking for anything,’ huh?” he teases, echoing Tyson’s own words from that night in the bar. Was it really only a month ago? Feels like Madison’s been in Tyson’s life way longer than that, with how quickly she’s taken over Tyson’s thoughts.

“I wasn’t!” Tyson protests. He shoves JT a little for good measure. He’s so drunk he doesn’t think it has the intended effect. JT just sways back into Tyson, leaning more of his weight on Tyson’s side. 

It’s almost midnight. Around them, teammates are moving around, finding someone to kiss. Someone’s opened champagne, someone else is passing full flutes around. Tyson takes one when it passes in front of him. JT digs his elbow into Tyson’s ribs one last time before getting up to find Sydney. 

Tyson’s left on the couch, alone. He pulls his phone back out as people begin counting down around him. Madison’s text comes through just as everyone starts cheering and the clock strikes midnight. Happy new year Tyson! 🖤 

Tyson closes his eyes and drains his glass of champagne. 

January

Tyson usually dreads January. It’s a long, cold, and dark month. The grind of the season feels like it’s at its…grindiest. The game days and travel days start to run into each other and turn into one exhausting, never-ending blur. Someone’s always getting sick, or injured, 

He’s perfectly happy to throw himself back into hockey when the new year finally rolls around after so many weeks without it, but he hates how quiet his apartment is without Kacey hanging around, being annoying. He leaves his Christmas decorations up, anything to make his apartment feel lived-in.

Tyson lasts until the team gets back from Chicago on the fifth before he calls Madison again. She doesn’t answer. Tyson stares at his phone after it goes through to voicemail, bewildered. That is, until Madison texts him back and reminds him that she has a “normal job with normal hours.” Right.

Madison calls Tyson back on her way home from work. His groggy, mumbled “‘ello?” makes Madison smile when he answers, voice tinny over her car’s speakers.

“Did I wake you?” she teases. 

Tyson scoffs, but says, “...yeah. Sorry for calling you earlier,” he adds. “I’d just gotten home and wasn’t thinking.” “You can’t just call at 10:30 in the morning on a Wednesday, Tyson,” she admonishes. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I was just—” missing you. Tyson dismisses that thought. Too earnest. “I was just bored,” he finishes. Not much better, actually. 

Madison’s quiet for a while, focused on driving. She realizes she should figure out where she’s actually headed. “Were you calling for any particular reason earlier?” she asks. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“I could never forget you,” Tyson says quickly. “I just wanted to see you,” he admits after another moment. 

Madison turns on her blinker at a red light. She should be turning left, towards her apartment. She turns right, towards Tyson’s place. “Did you want me to come over,” she asks, wanting to hear Tyson say it.

“I mean, obviously, yeah. I can make us dinner.”

Madison laughs. “Oh, sure, you’re gonna make me some toaster waffles, huh?” She had seen the Instagram stories. “You really know how to woo a girl, Tys.”

She can practically feel Tyson’s playful outrage on the other end of the phone. He sputters for a minute before saying, “Okay, I can order us dinner.” 

Madison’s almost to Tyson’s apartment building. She hates that she already knows how to get there so easily. “Are you going to get your ass out of bed and meet me downstairs?” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor, like Tyson actually rolled out of bed.

“I’ll be right there!” Tyson says, before hanging up. The radio cuts back in, music playing softly to fill in the abrupt silence of the call ending. Madison parks and turns her car off, sitting in silence for a minute. She wonders just what the hell she’s doing, what she’s getting herself into. 

Tyson sprawls onto his couch and pulls Madison into his lap almost immediately after they’re both through the door. Madison rolls her eyes, but she goes willingly. Tyson’s perfectly content to just make out for a while, all sense of urgency gone as soon as he gets his hands on Madison. He’s not sure how long they’re there before he realizes something and pulls away.

“Have you ever been to an Avs game?” he asks.

“What?” Madison lost her shirt at some point, and Tyson’s thumb has been fiddling with one of her bra straps for the last several moments. She’s admittedly a little distracted. She processes what Tyson said. “Tyson, are you seriously thinking about hockey right now?” She tries to roll off his lap, but he digs his hands into her thighs and refuses to let her move.

“I’m always thinking about hockey, a little bit,” he defends. Madison rolls her eyes at him again. What Tyson had really been thinking about was introducing Madison to JT, then he’d remembered that she said she didn’t watch much hockey, and somehow that’s what had come out of his mouth. Madison still looks a little bit like she wants to smack him. “I told my best friend about you,” is what he ends up saying next. “He’s actually the one who pointed you out to me at the bar that night, and he wants to meet you for real.”

JT had actually said that, in between chirps about Tyson’s hooking up habits. Some of the other guys had picked it up, too, but Tyson wasn’t ready to subject Madison to them yet. Except maybe, like, Cale. And maybe after a game at the arena wasn’t the best place to introduce Madison to his friends, but Tyson could get tickets for Madison and a friend, ask Mel to introduce herself or something, and then meet Madison after with JT. 

Tyson realizes Madison hasn’t answered him. She’s still in his lap, but she’s tense. Tyson squeezes her thighs again. 

“You don’t have to, obviously,” he says softly. “I dunno, I just thought you might want to meet the guys.”

Madison relaxes a little. “You really want that?” she asks. 

Tyson can’t help but grin at her. He kisses her again, slowly. “I do.”

Later, when they’re sitting at Tyson’s little table eating dinner—that Tyson did actually cook, thank you very much—Madison knocks her ankle into Tyson’s. Tyson swallows his mouthful of food and traps her foot in between both of his. Madison had gotten re-dressed in one of Tyson’s sweatshirts, and Tyson’s doing his best to feel normal about it. 

“So, did you have a day in mind for me to come to a game, or had you not thought that far ahead?” Madison asks. 

Tyson tries to run through their upcoming schedule in his head. “Uh?” They’re home for a lot of January. “Next Friday, maybe? The…14th?” He can’t remember who they’re playing, but that’s not really important. Tyson squints over at the printout of their schedule he keeps on his fridge. “We wouldn’t be able to hang around because we fly out that night, I think.”

Madison looks faintly overwhelmed suddenly. It might be for the best that the guys will only be able to say hi briefly, actually. “Sure? Whatever you want, Tyson.”

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Tyson reminds her. He feels a bit as if he’s thrown her off the deep end, even though she’s the one who pushed Tyson to tell JT in the first place. 

Madison shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, I just didn’t really expect it.” 

Tyson pulls a face. “Maybe I’m tired of keeping you a secret.” He doesn’t know what he was trying so hard to protect, now. 

Madison stares at him for a long moment, face unreadable. Tyson stares back. Finally, Madison drops her fork with a clatter and leans across the table to kiss Tyson. The fierceness of the kiss surprises him, Madison’s lips hard against his, her hand sliding around the back of his neck. Tyson cups her cheek and tries to soften the kiss, but Madison pulls away just as quickly as she’d kissed him. 

Tyson blinks at her, bemused. He’s not sure what just happened. It feels significant somehow, something unspoken changing between them. Tyson turns back to his dinner.

Madison sees Tyson a few more times over the next week and a half before the game. Tyson acts the same, but Madison feels like she’s on edge, counting down the hours until Friday. Tyson doesn’t seem to notice.

“What the hell am I supposed to wear to a hockey game?” Madison complains over the phone to her older sister, Emma, who she’d asked to come with her on Friday. Emma just laughs at her. Madison’s seen what WAGs wear to games—cute outfits with leather pants and heels. Madison doesn’t own that type of shit, and she’s not really a WAG, besides. She doesn’t own a jersey, either, and it would probably be weird to wear a jersey that’s not Tyson’s anyway. Madison’s pixie pants from Old Navy and sensible work shoes aren’t going to cut it.

“What were you wearing when you met Tyson?” Emma asks, as if she doesn’t know they met in a bar.

Madison snorts. “Nothing that’s appropriate for a hockey game.” Madison regards the handful of sweaters she’s pulled from her closet. One of them is close enough to Avalanche burgundy, maybe. Somewhere in her dirty laundry is one of Tyson’s sweatshirts. Madison’s not bold enough to wear it.

Game day is overwhelming, to say the least. Tyson had gotten them good seats, but Madison’s not used to being around so many people, and it’s noisy all around her. It’s easier to follow the pace of the game in person than on TV, she learns, and her eyes follow Tyson whenever he’s on the ice.

Tyson scores a goal late in the first period, and Madison’s probably the one who cheers the loudest for him. 

Madison waits outside the arena for Tyson after the game. Her sister’s waiting in the car, telling Madison it was too cold to stand around. She watches some of the other players make their way past her and onto a waiting bus. It’s cold, and she hates Tyson briefly. It’s only another few minutes until Tyson appears, closely followed by someone. They’re arguing, but Tyson breaks off as soon as he sees Madison waiting for him.

Tyson forgets himself for a moment. He runs over to Madison and wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up and spinning her once. Madison laughs at him. He ignores JT snickering behind him in favor of leaning down and kissing Madison quickly. 

Madison’s blushing when he pulls away, but it might just be from the cold. 

“Nice goal tonight, babe,” Madison tells him. Tyson just shrugs. 

Behind them, JT clears his throat. Tyson kind of forgot about that part. He drapes an arm around JT’s shoulders and drags him closer. “This asshole is JT,” he tells Madison. “He’s one of my best friends.” To JT, he says, “This is Madison, be nice.”

JT scoffs. “I’m always nice.” He grins at Madison. “I’m also the reason Tyson went up to you at the bar, so I guess you could thank me for whatever’s going on here.” Tyson smacks him. 

“You can get on the bus now, actually,” Tyson says. JT’s laughing again as Tyson tries to elbow him out of the way. Madison’s smiling, too, though, amused by their antics. 

JT does leave, then, and Madison and Tyson are alone. Or, as alone as you can be with half of Tyson’s teammates watching them through the bus windows. Tyson steps closer to Madison.

“Thanks for tonight,” she says. Tyson barely did anything, but he’s not going to say that now. Tyson should really get on the bus, but he can’t tear himself away. Madison’s hand finds his, tangling their fingers together and squeezing once before letting go again. “Text me when you get to the hotel, yeah?”

Tyson has to kiss her again. “I will, I promise.” He really needs to go. One last kiss, pressed to Madison’s cheek this time, then Tyson forces himself to step away. Madison’s gone when he turns around as he steps on the bus. Tyson shakes himself and goes to find JT, flopping into the seat left open for him. 

“You’re in deep, bud,” JT says. Tyson glares at him. 

“God, I know.”

February

Tyson should be planning a vacation somewhere warm. That’s what most of his teammates are doing, with the All-Star break coming up in just a few days, everyone ready to escape winter in Colorado. What Tyson’s doing instead is texting Madison, trying to convince her to spend the week with him. 

He doesn’t understand why she’s being so resistant to the idea. She’s spent nights and weekends with him before. She’s spent more time around his friends, even sticking around the other night when JT and Cale crashed their evening. 

Fine I’ll just stay over at yours then, Tyson finally texts as a last resort. 

Madison leaves him on read for, like, two hours. He spends most of that time trying to figure out what he could have said to make her pull away so suddenly. 

Tyson’s this close to actually driving over to Madison’s to finish this conversation-slash-argument in person when she finally texts him back. 

I don’t think that’s a good idea either, Madison has texted. Tyson stares at it. Tries to type a response, deletes it. 

Before he can think much more about it, Tyson’s grabbing his car keys. He ends up driving aimlessly around Denver for a while before he heads towards Madison’s apartment. He’s worried he’s too upset to go straight over, that he’ll just start saying things he doesn’t mean out of frustration. 

He still knocks on Madison’s door a little too hard, maybe. She looks confused when she answers the door. Tyson realizes he probably should have given her a heads up. 

He’d planned what he wanted to say in the car, but what he blurts out instead is, “What, are you sleeping with someone else on the side?” Tyson could play it off as a joke any other time, but right now it comes out too accusing, too hurt. 

Madison’s face does something complicated before she grabs him by the wrist and hauls him inside. 

“What the fuck, no,” she says. “Tyson, what the fuck?” she repeats.

He crosses his arms. “I don’t get why you don’t want to spend the week off with me.” She’s already spent days at a time in his apartment. This week shouldn’t be any different. 

Madison’s always hated cuffing season, is the thing. Maybe it’s just because she usually finds herself lonely through the winter months. She’s not stupid, this thing with Tyson has an expiration date; if she’s being honest with herself; they’ve been pushing it ever since they extended all of this past a one night stand. With every day that passes, Madison feels herself falling just a little more for Tyson, and she feels the impending end creeping closer. She needs to put some space between them before she gets her heart broken.

She just doesn’t know that Tyson’s busy falling, too. 

Madison doesn’t know how to put all of that into words without blowing up her spot, though. She settles for saying, “I just need some space, I think.” It’s not exactly a lie. 

Tyson’s face falls, and Madison immediately wishes she could take the words back.

Tyson’s quiet for a moment before he quietly says, “I didn’t do anything, did I?”

“No, God, of course not,” Madison rushes to assure him. She tries to collect her thoughts. “It’s just that, with Valentine’s Day coming up, and winter ending, I don’t know, I think I need to figure out what I want.”

Tyson forgot about Valentine’s Day. He doesn’t even know their schedule that far out. He supposes they have been hurtling towards something they’ve yet to define lately. But, “Hey, we’ve got a good thing going right now, don’t we?” Madison nods hesitantly. “Who said anything about changing that?” Tyson’s heart has other ideas, but he can worry about that later. 

Madison takes a deep breath. “I guess,” she says, and Tyson grins at her. 

“I’ll drop the All-Star break thing if you want. I just wanted to spend some time with you.” He doesn’t spend a lot of time with people other than teammates. It’s nice to change things up. 

“Like you wouldn’t be calling me all the time to hook up, anyway,” Madison teases. Tyson can’t argue with that. 

He ends up sticking around for a while, sprawled across Madison’s couch with her tucked against his chest between his legs. Madison turns on The Hobbit, even though Tyson doesn’t think they quite managed to make it through The Return of the King the last time they had a Tolkien marathon. 

When he leaves later, pulling Madison in for a chaste kiss in the doorway, he realizes it’s the longest they’ve spent together without it ending in a hook-up. It’s kind of nice. 

Tyson does back off some after that. All-Star break is already upon them, anyway. He can handle winging it solo for a few days. Probably. 

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t properly cleaned his apartment since their last long break back in December. The Avs have been home a lot in January, too, and his fridge is looking pretty bare these days.

He considers texting Madison and asking if she wants to tag along for his groceries, but he thinks that might be crossing the line of “too domestic.” He throws himself into cleaning and does his best to not think about texting her, instead.

It’s Madison who breaks the silence first. She lasts two days. She thought time and distance was what she needed, but that was before she realized how much she missed listening to Tyson chattering at her in between falling into bed. 

She texts, i’m coming over, before she can think better of it. She makes the now-familiar drive to Tyson’s apartment on autopilot. Tyson’s seen her text by the time she parks, and he readily buzzes her into the building. Madison doesn’t even have to knock when she gets to his door; Tyson jerks it open like he’s been waiting, beaming.

“Burky’s here,” he says, pulling Madison in for a kiss. Madison peers around Tyson. She hasn’t met Burky yet, but she vaguely recognizes the guy standing in the middle of Tyson’s living room as another teammate. 

“Hi,” he says. Awkward. Madison likes him.

“This is Madison,” Tyson announces, somewhat needlessly. His brain shorts out a bit after that, unsure what he can call Madison. ‘Friend’? ‘Hookup’? Definitely not ‘girlfriend’.

“Tyson hasn’t stopped talking about you since you came to the game a few weeks ago,” Burky tells Madison, interrupting Tyson’s runaway train of thought.

“Hey,” Tyson whines. “You don’t need to tell her that part.” 

Madison laughs. “Nah, it’s okay, JT’s already told me.”

Tyson’s busy trying to come up with a sufficient way to threaten JT whenever he sees him again as Burky slips out the front door, and suddenly he and Madison are alone. 

Madison starts to apologize for showing up with little warning, but Tyson cuts her off, pushing her—as gently as he can—against the nearest wall and kissing her. 

“Hi,” he breathes when Madison ducks her head to pull away. He kisses her again before he can admit how much he missed her.

“I missed you,” Madison says, which. Tyson can handle that.

“God, me too.” Before, he might have felt overexposed by telling her that, but, now, it’s just comforting to know she misses him the same way he misses her. “I was actually about to make dinner, if you’re hungry?”

He starts to head towards his kitchen, not waiting for Madison to follow. He hadn’t really planned much further than deciding to cook, but he can probably figure out enough to make for two people. Madison leans against the counter as Tyson opens his fridge and peers inside. He could make chicken, but that’s boring.

“I did just buy burger patties,” he says, sort of thinking out loud.

“Tys, make whatever you want,” Madison tells him, laughing a little. “I’ll eat it.”

Tyson twists around to grin at Madison. “Be careful, you haven’t actually seen me cook yet.” 

He’s a passable cook, actually—his mom wouldn’t let him leave for North Dakota before he knew the basics, and he’s only learned more since then. He plucks the burger patties out of the fridge.

Tyson talks while he cooks. He’s not even sure what he’s chatting about after a while, but Madison listens intently to everything he says. She winds up sitting on the counter near him, and he keeps stepping away from the stove to steal kisses in between sentences. He roasts up some red potatoes, too, and digs his hamburger buns out of the freezer. “They last longer,” he tells Madison, sticking two buns in his toaster. “Also, don’t tell Nate I’m eating white bread.”

Madison has not yet met Nathan MacKinnon, and she doesn’t think she’d be telling him what Tyson’s eating for dinner on a night off when she does meet him, either.

Tyson spends almost as much time dramatically plating the food as he did cooking it. Madison pours them both glasses of wine. He finally slides a plate in front of her but whips out his phone before she can take a bite.

Madison groans. “Tyson, oh my God.” She hides behind her wine glass while Tyson takes a picture of their plates.

Tyson reaches across the table to pull Madison’s hand away from her face. “Relax, I’m just sending it to JT.”

Madison scoffs, “Sure, just JT,” but she sets her wine back down.

Tyson tries to sneak another picture of her, but she catches him. The artificial shutter clicks just as she smiles sweetly at Tyson and flips him off.

“Delete that,” she whines.

“Absolutely not.”

They continue to chat over dinner. Tyson drips ketchup on his shirt, and Madison laughs so hard she chokes on her wine, which sets Tyson off, too. It’s several minutes before they can collect themselves again. Until Madison meets Tyson’s eyes across the table and bursts into laughter again.

“What’s so funny?” Tyson whines, still dabbing futilely at the stain on his shirt.

Madison wipes at her eyes, trying to catch her breath. “Nothing, nothing.” It really wasn’t that funny. “I think I’m just over-tired.” She doesn’t tell Tyson that she’s been worrying about him, about their relationship, so much that she hasn’t been able to sleep well.

Tyson frowns at her, anyway, like he knows what she’s not saying. He glances at the time. 

“Do you want to take a nap or something? It’s still early enough.”

Madison knows that if she falls asleep in Tyson’s bed now, she will not be getting out of it until morning at least, and, “I didn’t pack anything.” 

She doesn’t know why she was half-expecting Tyson to shut the door in her face when she arrived. She definitely hadn’t been planning on staying the night. 

Tyson frowns harder. “You can always wear something of mine. Unless…you don’t wanna stay?”

Madison pushes a piece of potato around her plate with her fork for a moment before answering.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to stay,” she says quietly.

“What?” Tyson’s so surprised he drops his fork. He snatches it back up and points it accusingly at Madison. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course I want you to stay. I literally always want you to stay.”

Madison can feel herself blushing and she ducks her head so Tyson can’t see.

Tyson goes on. “Plus, it’s a Friday night, we can stay up late and watch a movie, then sleep in tomorrow. I’ll even make you breakfast!”

He’ll probably actually persuade Madison into going out for breakfast, but that’s an argument he’ll save until the morning. Tyson decides he’s done eating and pushes back from the table. He tries to clear Madison’s plate, but she glares at him and swipes her plate away. Tyson makes grabby hands for it.

“C’mon, I’m not making you clean up after yourself, you don’t have to.”

Madison shakes her head and holds her empty plate farther out of Tyson’s reach. “You cooked, I clean, baby.”

“That’s not—” Tyson’s so distracted that Madison snatches his plate and darts towards the kitchen. “Hey!”

He chases after Madison, who’s laughing again. Tyson loves the sound of Madison’s laugh, the way it fills his apartment. He waits until the plates have clattered into the sink to press up behind her. He kisses her shoulder, her neck, before burying his face in the crook of her neck. Madison shudders and leans back into Tyson.

“How about neither of us clean up, and we go watch a movie instead?” Tyson mumbles into Madison’s skin.

Dishes can wait; Tyson needs Madison on top of him, like, five minutes ago. He doesn’t wait for her to respond before he loops an arm around her waist and drags her over to the couch. She grunts when he pulls her on top of him, but she’s pliant as he arranges both of them until they’re comfortable. He even pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over Madison’s back.

Madison snuggles in, the top of her head nestled perfectly under Tyson’s chin. He had intended for some making out, but now that they’re there, he’s fine with actually turning on a movie. He’s pretty sure Madison’s eyes are closed already, anyway, her breathing already starting to slow down and even out. Tyson scrolls for a while aimlessly before he settles on something stupid he’s probably seen before. He keeps the volume low. He dozes a little himself, absently rubbing Madison’s back underneath her shirt. She mumbles in her sleep and shifts closer.

It’s late by the time the movie ends, and Tyson rouses himself. They should both move to the bed, but he’s loath to wake Madison. She’s cute when she sleeps.

Tyson nudges Madison gently in the ribs. She stirs and blinks blearily up at Tyson.

“Hm?”

“Let’s get you to bed, baby,” Tyson whispers. He starts to move, and Madison makes a grumpy noise and snuggles back in. “C’mon, c’mon, it’s more comfy, I promise.”

He gets Madison up with quite a bit more poking and prodding. She’s unhappy with being woken up, and Tyson’s doing his best not to laugh at her. He nudges her towards the bathroom and gets a glare for his troubles, but she does dig out her toothbrush. 

Tyson roots around for an old shirt for Madison to wear. He holds it out to her when she emerges from the bathroom, but Madison bypasses the shirt and kisses Tyson instead. He tries to keep it gentle, but Madison whines and presses closer. Tyson drops the shirt in favor of sliding his hands along Madison’s shoulders, her ribs, down her hips. They’re not very coordinated as they fall backwards onto Tyson’s bed. Their feet tangle as Tyson tries to push even closer, pinning Madison to the bed as they continue to kiss.

Madison breaks the kiss to yawn in Tyson’s face.

He huffs out a laugh, and Madison whines again. “No more, or you’re gonna fall asleep on me.”

He watches as Madison squirms around until her head is on her pillow. She’s already half-asleep again. Tyson leans over the foot of the bed and fishes around for the sleep shirt he dropped. He tosses it to Madison, and it lands on her face. She tears it away to glare at him.

Tyson’s even polite and doesn’t stare at Madison’s chest as she strips off the shirt she had been wearing and shimmies into his shirt.

He also wins the argument over breakfast the next morning, and triumphantly takes Madison to breakfast at Snooze. Madison’s grouchiness only lasts until a plate of French toast lands in front of her. 

They’re out of town the day before Valentine’s Day. It’s just Dallas, and they’ll fly home after the game, but Tyson’s not actually sure where the line is between him and Madison and February 14th. Romantic dinner is absolutely out of the question. So are roses, probably. Tyson still wants to do something though, which is how he ends up on the website for a local flower shop while he’s supposed to be napping after skate. He scrolls for a few minutes before he remembers that he’s colorblind, and he should probably enlist some help.

JT and his judgmental eyebrows are at Tyson’s hotel room door seven minutes later. He shoulders his way past Tyson without a word, settles next to Tyson’s laptop on the bed.

“Flowers?” JT asks. “For your not-girlfriend?” He’s still being judgy, but Tyson knows he’s amused a little, too.

“Shut up, at least I’m not sending her roses,” Tyson says, trying to defend himself. He flops down on the bed next to JT. JT’s already busy scrolling. ”You need help picking the right colors, don’t you,” he says, teasing.

“Maybe.” Tyson’s never really understood flowers—they all sort of look the same to him—but girls are supposed to like them. Tyson’s never claimed to understand girls, either. 

JT clicks around a few times before he punches Tyson in the shoulder.

“Ow,” he complains, sitting up and peering over JT’s shoulder. “...What am I looking at?”

JT sighs. “I don’t know, some pink and purple flowers.”

Tyson squints closer at the photo of the arrangement JT picked. “Wait, is that a rose? I said no roses.”

“It’s pink, it’s fine.” JT tilts the screen away for a second. “You’re adding on a stuffed animal.”

“I am?” JT gives him a look. “I mean, sure.” JT turns the laptop back towards Tyson, and he dutifully fills in his credit card information. He has to hunt for Madison’s address in his phone, but then he’s pressing the confirmation button, and that’s it. “That’s it? That was easy.” 

JT snorts and shuts Tyson’s laptop. “Sure, easy after you asked me for help.” He facewashes Tyson. “You’re welcome.” 

“I’ll buy your coffee before the game,” Tyson offers, ignoring JT’s sarcasm. “Besides, you’re the one of us in a cute, long-term relationship.”

JT smirks at Tyson over his shoulder, heading for the door. “You could change that for yourself, you know.” 

“Working on it!” Tyson yells as the door shuts behind JT.

Tyson mostly forgets about the flowers after that, with the game, and the flight home, and crashing into bed and sleeping for almost ten hours. He hopes Madison likes them, hopes he isn’t pushing it too far.

Madison isn’t expecting the knock she gets on her door the next morning. She’s even more surprised when she opens her door and finds a small vase of flowers waiting on her doormat. There’s a teddy bear propped up next to the flowers; she hugs it to her chest as she carries the flowers inside. She has to set the teddy back down with the flowers to take a picture to send to Tyson.

She sends, should I be worried about a secret admirer? Tyson, eternal dork that he is, sends back the smirking emoji and the emoji blowing a kiss. Madison adds a selfie of herself hugging the bear and says, come cuddle?

Tyson probably, maybe, goes a little over the speed limit on his way to Madison’s. 

March

Fucking Calgary. Tyson’s face hurts. He gingerly sticks his tongue through the gap where his front teeth used to be, but moving hurts too much. He sits back in the passenger seat of JT’s car with a quiet groan. The training staff had been adamant that Tyson couldn’t drive himself home, and Tyson wasn’t really in any shape to put up a fight. JT looks at him sideways, something amused in the tilt of his eyebrows.

All this and they didn’t even fucking win. 

“Want me to call your mom?” JT asks. 

Tyson groans again. He really should call her. He knows she’s worried, and if he doesn’t tell her he’s fine—mostly— she’ll probably take the next flight into Denver to check on him herself. She’s pretty great like that. 

He should probably text Madison, too. 

What Tyson really wants to do is go home and pass out for about twelve hours. He’s already scheduled for emergency dental work in the morning, though, and then Tyson’s going to have to beg the training staff to let him play on the road trip they’re about to head on. He hasn’t even packed yet. 

JT holds his hand out for Tyson’s phone. Tyson fishes it out of his hoodie pocket and slaps it into JT’s hand. JT waves it at him.

“Unlock it, dumbass,” JT says. Tyson could grumble about how JT definitely knows his passcode, but he just takes his phone back. “And dial your mom while you’re at it, I can’t do it while driving.” Tyson settles for a disgruntled huff and does as he’s told. 

He only half-listens, eyes closed, as JT talks to his mom, repeated reassurances that he’s fine, and, no, she doesn’t need to come down, and, yes, JT will keep an eye on him. 

They’re almost to Tyson’s apartment by the time JT hangs up. He doesn’t hand Tyson’s phone back. Tyson cracks open his eyes to squint at JT.

“Need me to call your little girlfriend, too?” he asks. The way he says it isn’t mean, but Tyson bristles anyway.

“Not my girlfriend,” he manages, swiping for his phone. Not yet, anyway, or maybe not ever. Tyson’s working on it. JT lets him take it, but Tyson doesn’t miss the raised eyebrow he gets before JT turns back to the road.

JT insists on walking Tyson to his front door, then following him inside. Tyson’s too tired to begrudge the fussing. Plus, he does feel like shit, and it’s kind of nice, even if he’ll never, ever tell JT that. JT hovers in the bedroom doorway as Tyson kicks off his slides and faceplants into his pillow.

“Ow,” he says, gingerly turning back over.

JT snorts at him. “Need anything?” The trainers gave Tyson painkillers after the game, and it’s not like he can brush his teeth—or what’s left of them, anyway. He settles for flipping off JT. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll lock the door on my way out.” Tyson probably owes him one after this. 

He barely remembers to text Madison a thumbs up emoji before he falls asleep.

Tyson grimaces when he sees himself in the mirror the next morning. His jaw is swollen and bruised, and he can barely open his mouth. He’s not sure he wants to see the state of his teeth, anyway. A knock on his door drags him away from his mirror.

Madison knocks again, unsure if Tyson’s awake. She should’ve called, or texted, before she showed up. She shifts anxiously from foot to foot while she waits for Tyson to answer. It’s only another few seconds before the door swings open, and Tyson appears. He looks miserable as he leans against the door. 

“You look like shit,” Madison says. She waits until he steps back before pushing past him and inside his apartment. 

“Thanks,” Tyson mumbles, following Madison to the kitchen. 

She hops up onto the counter and thrusts one of the smoothies in her hand at Tyson. “Breakfast,” she says.

Tyson takes it and takes a wary sip. It’s his favorite flavor, and he takes a bigger drink. He’s halfway through slurping his smoothie before he remembers to say anything else.

“I’ve, uh, got the dentist this morning, then I’ve gotta meet the team to fly to New York,” he tells Madison. He talks carefully around his swollen gums. 

Madison shrugs. “Just wanted to check on you, bud,” she says. She sets her smoothie aside and holds her arms out to Tyson. He steps into her arms and lets her hold him. He wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face in the crook of her neck. “Looked pretty rough out there last night.”

Tyson grunts. Madison pokes him in the ribs until he squirms away. He takes a petulant drink of his smoothie.

“Do you need any help with anything?” she asks. 

Tyson still hasn’t packed. His dirty laundry has piled up. He should really clean his apartment. 

Instead, he shakes his head, muttering, “You don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I asked, Tys,” she says, crossing her arms. She stares him down. 

Tyson cracks. “I’ve just got a bunch of cleaning to do, is all.” It hurts to talk too much. He forces himself to shrug, tries to do the math on how much time he has before the dentist and before heading to the airport to get everything done. 

Madison doesn’t seem concerned. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

“You don’t-” Tyson starts. You should just leave, he wants to say, but doesn’t. 

“Shut up and drink your smoothie, Jost,” Madison tells him. 

Tyson shuts up and drinks his smoothie. 

He goes to start a load of laundry while Madison tackles his kitchen. He’d run the dishwasher the day before, but what hadn’t fit had piled up in the sink, and he had never exactly gotten around to emptying it. More dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Tyson stands in his bedroom for a moment, listening to the sounds of Madison putting things away in his cabinets.

He doesn’t know when she learned where everything goes.

They work around each other in silence for a while. Tyson stops a few times and watches the confidence and comfort with which Madison moves around his apartment. He likes it more than he should, probably. 

He’s got clothes in the dryer when he realizes he should’ve left already. He’d gotten a lot of work done the night before, and he’s got more appointments for when they get back to Denver at the end of the week.

He looks around his half-cleaned apartment in despair. He’d managed to pack enough to get by, he thinks. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to borrow socks from JT on a road trip, anyway. Madison must see the look on his face, because she walks over to Tyson. He looks down at her as she places her hands on his hips.

“Go, I can handle the rest of this,” she says. They’d made good progress, but most of Tyson’s laundry—anything that hadn’t gotten immediately packed—still needs to be folded. “Just leave me the apartment key. I’ll finish up, and make sure everything’s locked up. Promise,” she tells him.

Tyson can’t ask her to do that, and he tells her as much. That’s like. Girlfriend shit. He doesn’t say that part. 

What he ends up saying is, “Are you sure? You really don’t have to.” 

Madison leans up on tiptoes to press a quick close-mouthed kiss to Tyson’s lips. “I know. But I want to help you, babe. Let me help you.” 

Tyson sighs. This isn’t a fight he’s going to win. Madison watches him with something like satisfaction on her face as he finds his keys, carefully unhooks his apartment key and hands it over, but there’s something soft in her eyes, too. Tyson can’t bear to think too hard about what that look means, so he steps around Madison and goes to grab his bags.

Tyson gives her a quick kiss on his way past. He wants nothing more than to kiss her properly, like she deserves, but he doesn’t think his jaw could handle that. Madison grabs Tyson’s wrist before he can get far. He turns to look at her again, a question on the tip of his tongue, when she slips a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss him again. It’s almost desperate, but slow and gentle. Tyson lets himself get lost in it for a second. Madison squeezes his neck once before she pulls away. She gives him a soft smile. Tyson presses his forehead to hers for another second before he regretfully pulls away. 

“See you in a few days,” she whispers. 

Tyson deserves all the chirps he gets for being late.

The road trip fucking sucks, to say the least. Tyson’s jaw hurts more often than it doesn’t, and he ends up with more penalty minutes than points. He’s looking forward to going home and sleeping in his own bed for a minimum of twelve hours.

He panics, too, a little. It’s become startlingly obvious that he’s fucking head over heels for Madison, and he has no clue what to do about it. They’ve got a good thing going, he thinks, and he doesn’t want to mess with it, really. He doesn’t really want things to stay how they are, either. 

So, panic. He thinks about JT calling Madison his girlfriend, just a few days before. He thinks of his own realization that the lines between hooking up and relationship have become blurred. What he needs is distance, some clarity. The time difference between Denver and the East Coast is an easy enough excuse to start; they’re busy, and it’s easy to let texts from Madison go unanswered for a few hours, or a few hours longer than a few hours. 

Madison must get the hint, because her texts peter out after a few days. 

Tyson is trying to find his keys in his carry-on bag as they step off the plane when he remembers that he left them with Madison so she could lock up his apartment for him. He’s locked out of his apartment and being iced out by Madison, and all he really wants is to go to sleep and not talk to anyone.

He sheepishly calls Madison as he leaves the airport. She sounds normal when she answers, and she doesn’t hesitate to say, “Sure,” when he asks if he can pick up his keys. Tyson climbs into his car tiredly and puts Madison’s address into his phone GPS.

Tyson’s only been to Madison’s place a few times. He hasn’t realized until now that he usually prefers having her over at his apartment. He likes seeing her there, forcing him to make room for herself in his life, at ease in his bed. He shakes those thoughts off. 

Madison makes him wait when he knocks on her apartment door. He stands awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. Finally, after what feels like forever, Madison swings the door open. She doesn’t move back to let Tyson in, keys already in her hand. 

“Hi,” Tyson breathes. Madison raises an eyebrow at him. Tyson gets the sudden urge to apologize. He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Thanks again, uh, for helping me with everything,” he says eventually. “I owe you.” He hasn’t seen his apartment yet, obviously, but he knows Madison left it cleaner than it’s been since he moved in, probably. Madison’s breath catches. That was the wrong thing to say. “No, you don’t, Tyson,” she says shortly. She tosses Tyson his keys. He’s not expecting it and fumbles them. The sound of them hitting the ground is deafening. Tyson’s exhausted, and he’s only so strong.

“Can I come in?” he asks. “Please?”

Madison regards him. Tyson looks pathetic, if she’s being honest with herself, worn-out and worn-down. His swelling has gone down since she last saw him, but he looks uncomfortable. She gets the feeling it’s not just about his jaw. She, too, is only so strong. “C’mere,” she says, finally stepping back and opening the door wider. Tyson’s so relieved he could cry.

Tyson ends up collapsing in Madison’s bed and sleeps for twelve hours, face buried in a pillow that smells like her. So much for getting some distance. 

Madison’s waiting outside Tyson’s apartment door when he gets home after beating Calgary a few nights later. Tyson’s tired, and cold, but he feels himself grinning when he sees her. She’s leaning casually against his door frame, playing idly on her phone, but she’s wearing one of Tyson’s hoodies. He wants nothing more than to kiss her right there, but he settles for bumping her out of the way with his hip so he can unlock his front door.

“What if JT had come home with me, huh? Or Cale?” Tyson asks instead of saying hello. She follows him inside and locks the door behind her. Tyson busies himself with his coat so he doesn’t blurt out something dumb. He and JT weren’t quite as inseparable as they used to be, but it could happen. And Cale only lived a few floors away. Though, now that Tyson thought of it, he hadn’t been inviting teammates over after games very much lately, not when there was usually someone else waiting for him.

He’s seen Madison since they got back from their road trip, but he misses her so much when she’s not around now. He can’t get enough of her. That probably means something. He’s working on it. Sort of. 

“Hello to you, too, Tys,” she scoffs, kicking off her shoes. She carefully aims one at Tyson’s shin.

“Hey, hey, watch the suit pants,” he protests. He gives in and steps closer to her, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her into him. He allows himself a quick kiss, just a chaste one, forcing himself to pull away before either of them can deepen it.

She pouts at him. Tyson allows himself one more kiss. He is beginning to realize that he is so, so fucked.

Tyson strips off his suit jacket as he heads towards the kitchen. She trails after him. Tyson swings around to walk backwards so he can face her. He immediately bumps into the doorway to the kitchen and stumbles. He doesn’t turn back around.

“Snack first,” he says. He doesn’t say what comes next, but he’s pretty sure they both know.

“Didn’t you eat after the game at the Can?” she asks. Tyson drops his suit jacket on one of his kitchen chairs. She picks it up with a sigh and a small smile before draping it nicely over the back of the chair instead. 

Tyson turns back around, intent on digging through his fridge. “Well, yeah, but—” He freezes. Blinks. There are balloons tied to the faucet of his sink. Next to them, a cookie cake and two wrapped presents. Tyson peers closer at the cookie cake. Happy birthday, Tys! It reads, in looping cursive. 

Tyson turns slowly back to face her. She looks shy, biting her lip and watching Tyson with something like nervousness written across her face. Tyson feels guilty, suddenly, for the way he tried to put distance between them just a few days before. 

“How did you—When?” Tyson gets out. She doesn’t look any less nervous, he realizes, and he rushes over to hug her.

She holds up a familiar key when he lets her go, the beginnings of a smile on her face, now. “Cale slipped me your spare key,” she explains. “I snuck in after you left for the game this afternoon, after I got off work.” 

Tyson had completely forgotten that he and Cale had swapped spares when they ended up living in the same building. The idea was to save them from the potential embarrassment of locking your keys in your apartment, but apparently Cale was using his for more nefarious purposes now. 

Madison had been surprised at how easy it had all been. She doesn’t even remember when she got Cale’s number, but he had readily agreed to help her out some. She’d even considered sticking around and surprising Tyson when he got home, but she still wasn’t quite sure how he’d react. She couldn’t tell with him sometimes.

Tyson has to kiss her. She giggles, breathless, when he pulls away.

“Well, now I know what we’re eating for a snack,” Tyson says, taking her hand and dragging her towards the island. He only lets go long enough to dig through a drawer for a knife and to tear off two paper towels. He cuts two large slices and hands one to her. He shoves a bite of cookie cake in his mouth before he says, I love you.

She hops up on the counter when they’ve both finished their slices, swinging her feet into the cabinets. Tyson steps between her legs and kisses her again, because he can. He reaches behind her and picks up one of the wrapped packages. It’s small, light. He flips it over once in his hands. “Hey, your birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” she says, swiping for the present. 

Tyson holds it out of her reach, and she wraps her legs around his waist, pressing him close against her. Tyson takes a deep breath.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says. He sticks a finger underneath a flap in the wrapping paper. He really hadn’t been expecting anything.

She shrugs. “It’s stupid,” she says. 

“Good thing I like stupid,” Tyson counters. He tears into the wrapping paper properly, letting it drop carelessly to the ground. He’s left with a small book. “It’s a ukulele book?” 

“It’s sheet music, so you can finally stop playing the same three songs all the time,” she says.

Tyson realizes he hasn’t said anything else. He stops staring and sets the book aside. “It’s perfect, not stupid,” he says. She tilts her chin for another kiss. Who is he to say no? “Thank you,” he murmurs against her lips. He reaches for the second present, still kissing her. She groans at him.

Tyson tears into the second present just as eagerly as the first. She’s laughing at him, and this time he crumples the wrapping paper up and tosses it at her face. It’s just a case of beer, Tyson’s favorite. He hadn’t realized she noticed it was always stocked in his fridge. 

Her legs are still wrapped around his waist, and Tyson presses closer, as close as he can get. The counter digs into the tops of his thighs, but he’s too busy making out to care. She slides her hands into his hair. She tastes like cookie cake and peppermint Chapstick; Tyson would kiss her forever if he could. 

Speaking of. They fell over the last time Tyson tried to carry her to his bedroom, but he slides his hands underneath her thighs, anyway, tugging her off the counter. She slips down, still pinned between Tyson and the countertop, still kissing him languidly. 

“Gonna actually move at any point?” she eventually asks, pulling away to press her forehead to Tyson’s. 

Tyson pretends to think about it. “I mean, we don’t have to go to bed,” he says. Not being on a bed hadn’t stopped them before.

She pushes on Tyson’s chest, and he goes, laughing. She lets herself be dragged to Tyson’s room, kicking the door shut behind her. 

It’s late by the time they tumble into bed for real. She’s in one of Tyson’s shirts, and nothing else. If Tyson weren’t actually exhausted, he’d be considering round two. He had nearly gotten caught while they were cleaning up in the bathroom after round one, sleepily staring as she took off her makeup and brushed her teeth—a bottle of her makeup remover and her toothbrush live on Tyson’s sink, and have for months. Tyson tries not to look into it too much. 

“What?” she’d asked, catching Tyson’s eye in the mirror.

He had shaken himself. “Nothing,” he said, giving her a sleepy grin. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he slipped out of the bathroom.

Madison watches him go. She’s trying to decipher that look in his eyes. His face was soft, fond behind drowsy eyes. She realizes she’s frozen with her toothbrush still in her mouth. Tyson’s waiting for her. 

He’s staring up at the ceiling fan, rotating slowly above him, when she emerges and slips under the covers next to him. Her toes are cold where she presses them to Tyson’s leg, and he swears under his breath, even as he reaches across the bed to pull her closer. He presses a kiss to her hair and rests his chin on top of her head. Madison hides a smile in his chest. 

Tyson wakes up slowly the next morning. It’s still early, the sunlight filtering through his curtains the hazy grey of dawn. Madison’s still asleep next to him when he rolls over. Tyson dares to pull her closer until she’s tucked underneath his chin again. Madison stirs a little, making a soft noise and pressing closer. She pulls back and blinks sleepily up at Tyson.

“Happy birthday, Tyson,” she murmurs. 

Tyson grins at her and brushes a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. He kisses her quickly, and she makes a soft noise and leans into it before yawning. “Thank you,” Tyson whispers back. “Now go back to sleep.” 

Madison grumbles, but snuggles back in, pressing her nose to Tyson’s collarbone. 

It’s brighter out when Tyson next blinks himself awake. Madison’s already awake this time, scrolling quietly on her phone, but she sets it aside when she sees Tyson look at her. He rolls so he can prop himself up on one hand, leaning over Madison. She grins up at him, reaches to slide her fingers into Tyson’s hair.

Tyson has practice today, and then they’re leaving again. Those things aren’t important right now, though. What’s important is Madison’s mouth opening up to his, the pressure of her knee against his hip, the feel of her skin underneath his fingers when he slips a hand below her shirt. 

It takes them a while to get out of bed. 

Madison moves easily around Tyson when they finally make it into the kitchen. Tyson makes Madison coffee the way she likes it and mans the toaster while Madison makes them both eggs. She showers—Tyson bought all of her shower products weeks ago—while Tyson gets dressed. Tyson perches on the bathroom counter and watches while she does her makeup. She catches him looking at her.

“What?” she asks. She pushes her hair out of her face nervously. 

“Uh,” Tyson says. He had gotten caught up, wasn’t really thinking about anything, distracted by thoughts of how easily Madison moves through his space, by his side.

“Tyson,” Madison says, impatient.

“Do you, uh, maybe wanna go on a date with me?” Tyson manages. 

“Tys, you’re leaving on a road trip in,” she checks the time on her phone, “like four hours.”

Tyson rolls his eyes. “Okay, but we’ll be back in a few days. What about then?”

Madison smiles. “We’ll see, ask me when you get back.” 

“That’s not a real answer,” Tyson says. He can hear himself whining. He needs this answer before he can board a plane, though. He grabs her wrist and tugs her closer. “C’mon, am I really that bad?”

She goes easily into Tyson’s side. She pretends to think about it for a moment—too long for Tyson’s nerves—before relenting. “When you get back,” she says. She goes up on her toes to kiss Tyson’s cheek. “Now get out of here before you’re late to practice.”

They don’t get to go on that date.

He’s in California when he gets the call. Minnesota. It’s not like he didn’t see it coming. The deadline’s coming up in, like, a week, and besides. He’d asked for a trade, hadn’t he? He doesn’t say goodbye to anyone before he’s back on a plane, this time to St. Paul. 

He calls his mom first, asks if she’ll pack him some shit from his apartment in Denver. He was supposed to be back in just a few days. 

“I don’t have any clothes for fucking Minnesota,” he complains, his one moment of self-appointed wallowing. He’ll be happy about this, probably, he just needs to process it.

He doesn’t think about it when he turns his phone off before getting on the plane. He’s met by some people from the Wild—the team, his team, now—at the airport in St. Paul, hustled to a hotel near Xcel Center with his meager belongings and left to “settle in.” He’s expected at morning skate tomorrow; his jaw aches.

They’ve put him up in a nice hotel downtown. He can see a river—the Mississippi, he thinks— out his window. His phone’s still off, tossed on the bed when he came in. He swipes it off the comforter and powers it back on, shoving it and a room key in his pocket on his way out the door. 

His hotel room is too stuffy, too small. He takes the stairs and pushes his way outside. He can see the Xcel Center a few blocks away, and he turns his back to it, starts walking. He has no idea where he is or where he’s going. He hopes no one recognizes him. 

It’s not long before he finds himself in a park alongside the river. It’s quiet, and no one looks twice at him as he finds an empty bench and finally pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his notifications: texts from Kacey and his grandpa—he’ll have to respond to them—dozens from his—former—teammates on the Avs that he ignores, a handful from numbers he doesn’t have saved, Wild players introducing themselves and welcoming him to the team—he’ll have to make some new contacts. He swipes everything away to deal with later, once his head stops spinning. He pauses on one text, the only one he’d really been looking for.

So much for that date, huh. it says. She’s added a broken heart emoji to soften the blow. Then, an hour later, call me when you get the chance. Another emoji at the end, a black heart, even though Tyson’s told her repeatedly that he can mostly tell colors apart.

He already knows what she’s going to say. Can you get broken up with before you’re even dating? How do you make friends-with-benefits work long-distance? Tyson’s not in the mood for that conversation, doesn’t know if he ever will be. He swipes away her notifications, too. 

Minnesota is chilly, and Tyson’s fingertips are a little numb by the time his hotel room door slams behind him later. It’s getting dark. He should order dinner. He should do a lot of things, actually. He lets himself wallow for a few more minutes, flopped on his back in the center of the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling.

He halfheartedly peruses the room service menu on his nightstand before calling something in. He’s not even sure what he ordered. 

Tyson’s woken up by knocking on his door. He blinks awake and stumbles blearily out of bed. It’s fully dark in his room now. Room service knocks on his door again. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Tyson grumbles, not even loud enough to be heard, probably. 

His food is lukewarm at best by the time he gets everything spread out on the little desk in his room. Tyson picks at it more than he eats it.

Back in Denver, Madison’s phone doesn’t ring. She figured Tyson would be busy and exhausted by the time he made it to Minnesota. She wants to check in, but her messages show that they’ve been read. He’s made it clear that he’s not in the mood to chat. 

It’s fine. He’s allowed to be upset over all this. Madison had just thought that they’d made it far enough in their relationship—whatever that relationship was—that she wouldn’t get stonewalled the second something serious happened. 

She hasn’t had a chance to return Tyson’s spare key to Cale yet. She’d stayed behind after Tyson left for the airport on his birthday to clean up some of the disaster they’d left behind the night before. She was going to give it back when they got home. Except now Tyson’s not coming home, and she isn’t sure he’ll speak to her again, either. 

She tries to convince herself she’s not hurt by it. 

Madison sneaks back into Tyson’s apartment the day after the trade. She’s collected some of Tyson’s clothes over the last few months, and she should pick up her own belongings that have become scattered across his apartment. She’s not sure how Tyson’s going to get the rest of his stuff to Minnesota, but she knows it’s not her problem. Tyson’s made that clear. 

She opens the text thread with Tys 🖤 again anyway. No new messages. She starts to type, to ask how Tyson’s doing, if he wants to talk, but she deletes it all. She closes her text thread with him again.

Madison wanders around the apartment, collecting things she recognizes as her own: her toothbrush, a half dozen ponytail holders that Tyson delights in tearing out of her hair to make out, the makeup remover that Tyson bought after she fell asleep there the first time and left makeup all over his pillowcase. She leaves the clothes she dug out of her closet and drawers folded on the end of his bed. She keeps one of his hoodies, because it’s comfy and it smells like him. It’s an Avs hoodie, anyway; it’s not like he’ll need it. The cookie cake she bought for his birthday is still sitting on the counter. They’d eaten it with breakfast on his actual birthday, but it was otherwise untouched. She figures someone will be by soon to pack up his apartment. She leaves it on the counter for them, whoever it is.

She locks the door behind her. It feels final in a way that she hates. 

Tyson drags himself to morning skate early the next morning. He doesn’t feel like he slept much, though he fell asleep before he ever got around to responding to anyone’s texts. He makes no less than four wrong turns trying to find the home locker room in Xcel Center. The equipment staff has a locker set up for him already, all of his new gear waiting for him when he finds it. Tyson stares at the white practice jersey for a long moment, the green helmet already fitted with his full face shield and new number. He’s the only one in the locker room so far.

Tyson feels himself smile for the first time in what feels like days. 

Skate passes in a blur. Tyson throws himself into everything the coaches ask of him, trying his best to learn a new team on the fly. His muscles ache from all the travel in the last few days and the lack of sleep, but he leans into the pain with a grin. It’s fun, in a weird way, and everyone’s quick to chirp Tyson, make him feel like he’s already a real part of the team. 

Madison watches the Wild’s game that night. Tyson’s still in his little fishbowl after the broken jaw, and Madison winces every time he takes a check, even though she knows he’s fine, really. Minnesota wins. She doesn’t watch any of their other games, or follow Minnesota on any socials. She considers blocking Tyson’s phone number, the last message she sent to him still sitting open and unreplied to. 

She can’t bring herself to do it. 

Tyson’s mom, ever the lifesaver, arrives a few days later with most of the contents of his closet in tow. She’s also brought the cookie cake Madison had bought him for his birthday. It’s half-eaten and stale, now, reading only “-hday, Tys!” He eats a piece, anyway, and his mom doesn’t ask who bought it for him. She doesn’t ask any questions, actually, which Tyson is grateful for. He’s told her bits and pieces about Madison over the last few months, but he hasn’t told her how he’s fallen in love. It doesn’t matter now.

Tyson’s trying to unpack, give himself some semblance of “home” in his stale hotel room, when a piece of paper falls out of the pocket of one of his suit jackets. He picks it up and carefully unfolds it, though he already knows what it says. good luck tonight! ♡ in Madison’s pretty cursive. She’d tucked it into his suit before a game in January, and Tyson had scored a goal that night. He slipped it back in the inside pocket of the suit jacket. Maybe it’ll bring him luck in Minnesota, too. 

Madison’s phone rings late one night, a few weeks after Tyson’s been traded. It’s the first time she’s heard from him since he left Denver. She squints at her phone screen in the dark, debating ignoring it. Tyson’s face grins up at her, a stupid selfie he had taken ages ago. She swipes to answer with a sigh.

“Tyson, if you’re just calling because you’re drunk or something, I swear—” she starts. She’s not really sure what she’ll do to Tyson, actually, so she trails off. 

Tyson’s quiet on the other end of the line. Madison hears him take a shaky breath, but he still doesn’t speak for a long moment. “The Avs are in town,” he says finally. “Game’s tomorrow night,” he adds. 

Madison hasn’t really been paying attention to either team’s schedule lately. She hasn’t had much reason to. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say here, what’s the right answer to comfort Tyson. She might’ve once, but she feels wrong-footed now, unsure of where they stand.

“You gonna see anyone?” she asks.

Tyson huffs. “Yeah, I got dinner with some of them tonight.” He pauses. “They’re still my friends, y’know, it’s not like they’re the ones who traded me.”

Madison hums, something like agreement. She thinks she can hear the hurt in Tyson’s voice, even though he’s trying to hide it. He’s still talking. “I’ve just…never had to play against my best friends like this before.”

“Oh, Tys,” Madison says softly. “That sucks, babe.” The familiar endearment slips out before she can stop herself. 

“Yeah, it sucks alright,” Tyson agrees. He’s quiet again. “Wish you could be here, too. Miss you.”

“You don’t mean that,” Madison says. With the game tomorrow, Tyson might not be drunk, but it’s late, and he’s wallowing in missing his friends. She doesn’t think she really qualifies as that anymore.

“What do you mean?” Tyson asks, indignant. “Of course I mean it.”

“Is that why this is the first time we’ve spoken since you got traded? Two weeks ago?” Madison’s angry, suddenly; that small spark of hurt she’s been trying to bury flares into fury. 

She can practically hear Tyson’s wince on the other end of the line. It’s too late to be arguing, but this is where they’re at now. 

“Sorry for not wanting to get dumped hours after I got shipped off to fucking Minnesota,” Tyson snaps back, but he sounds tired. The fight leaves Madison just as quickly as it appeared. “Who said anything about breaking up?”

Tyson’s quiet. Madison can picture the way his eyebrows furrow when he’s thinking too hard. “You asked me to call you!”

“I asked you to call me because I wanted to check on you, dumbass.” Madison rubs at her eyes. They should both be asleep, but now she feels too awake to hang up, to end this conversation. She might be annoyed, but it’s the first time she’s heard Tyson’s voice in weeks. She’s missed it, though she’s not about to admit that right now. “How can I even break up with a guy I’ve never been on a real date with?” she asks.

“Oh.” 

“It’s been a wild fucking month for you, Tys, I wanted to talk to you and see how you were handling shit,” Madison continues.

Tyson realizes now might not be the best time to admit that he’d requested a trade. This had still blindsided him, somehow. He considers switching to a FaceTime call. He desperately wants to see Madison’s face, the next best thing to being with her right now, getting to touch her. He winces again when she sniffles on the other end of the line. He’d been lonely when he called her, expecting some sympathy, not the anger he was met with. 

He guesses he probably should’ve considered she’d be mad at him after moving over 900 miles away and then giving her radio silence for two weeks, actually. He taps the FaceTime button a little harder than necessary. He’s almost surprised when Madison accepts the request.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been busy,” he says weakly. “I didn’t think—I just figured you were wanting to tell me that we couldn’t keep doing this.” It seems obvious given the distance, but Tyson really hadn’t been in the mood to get effectively broken up with twice in one day. 

Madison’s eyes burn as she swipes at them, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the late hour, or if she’s about to cry. 

Tyson realizes something. “Besides, you had just gotten spooked and tried to slow things down, I didn’t think you’d want to jump from just hooking up to long-distance.” It’s too dark for him to tell if she’s crying. He hopes she isn’t. 

“That was—” Madison starts to protest. But Tyson’s right. It had only been a few weeks since she’d panicked about how fast they were headed towards a real relationship. That had been before the broken jaw, before Tyson’s birthday, before he got traded. Before Madison had the chance to realize just how much she cared about Tyson, and liked Tyson, and how much she missed him when he wasn’t just a text away.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend for real, you know? On that date? But then I was in Minnesota, and I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to anyone, and I wasn’t ready to talk about anything.” Madison opens her mouth to argue more, but Tyson cuts her off. “You want to know how I’m handling shit? Not well,” he admits.

Hockey is hockey, but he’s not sure Minnesota will ever feel like home the way Denver still does. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Madison blurts.

Tyson laughs in spite of himself. “So many things,” he says. It’s easy, for a second, to forget they’re arguing. Fuck, he wishes Madison were with him, and not for the first, or the third, or the tenth time since he’s been in Minnesota. “I guess I should’ve texted instead of shutting you out, huh? I just never knew what to say.”

“You’re an idiot,” Madison says softly. “I really did just want to check on you. But you left me on read, and then a few days had passed, so I guess you’d made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to talk. I didn’t even think about worrying about our future then.” 

Tyson squeezes his eyes shut. He’s blurry on Madison’s phone screen, but she can tell his hair is a disaster, like he’s been anxiously pulling on his curls.

“Did I accidentally break up with you to avoid being broken up with?” he asks. He sounds like he’s on the verge of laughter. Or maybe tears. Madison can’t quite tell, actually. 

“Mmm, I think so, babe,” Madison says. She rolls over in bed, stifling a yawn. It’s late in Denver, but it’s even later in St. Paul, she thinks. “Hey, you need to sleep. “You’ve gotta beat the Avs tomorrow.” She glances at the clock in the corner of her screen. “Well. Today, I guess.”

Tyson sticks his tongue out at her, but he snuggles deeper into his pillows. “Can I call you later?” His voice is small.

“Yeah, Tys.” They’ve got a lot more to talk about. “Say hi to JT and Cale for me, yeah?” she says.

Tyson grins at her. He stops himself from saying, “I love you,” before he hangs up, but only barely, settling on, “Good night,” instead. There’s still time for the other one, he thinks

The game is…fine. They slap a microphone on Tyson before he goes out on the ice, and it’s definitely weird facing off against some of his best friends, but he gets through it. He doesn’t score, but he doesn’t land in the penalty box either, so. He spends some time attempting to chirp an exasperated EJ that he’ll probably get made fun of for later. Oh, and the Wild win. Tyson guesses it’s an okay night, after all. 

Tyson misses Denver, misses playing at the Can, but after facing off against his friends on the still-unfamiliar ice in Minnesota, he’s not sure he can handle returning. 

Madison finds herself watching the Avs game for the first time in weeks, but she’s not watching for them. She’s paying attention to all of Tyson’s shifts, and she realizes halfway through the game that she’s completely rooting against the Avs. 

The final buzzer has barely blown when she’s pulling out her phone to text Tyson. She hesitates for a moment, unsure of the right thing to say. She feels like they finally made progress last night after Tyson stonewalled her for weeks, but they’re still a half dozen steps behind where they were in the beginning of March. She somehow knows more than she did before Tyson called her, but she feels like she understands their relationship even less now. 

She must type four or five messages before she settles on, great win :) 🖤. She kind of hates it as soon as she sends it, but she can’t take it back. She tosses her phone to the other end of the couch before she can obsess over waiting for Tyson to text her back. She doesn’t have to wait long, though, before her phone is vibrating near her feet. She takes one breath, then another, before scrambling for her phone again. Tyson’s texted back, thanks babe. Then, less than a minute later, wish you were here. 

Madison stares at her phone, chewing on her bottom lip. She doesn’t know the right thing to say once again. ‘Me too’ feels too earnest, ‘wish you were still here instead’ feels mean somehow. She still doesn’t know when she’ll see Tyson again, if she’ll see Tyson again. All she has is a version of Tyson through a screen. Her thumb hovers over the call button. Tyson’s probably busy with post-game stuff, Madison reminds herself. She misses his voice, though.

She finally settles on: :). She waits anxiously until Tyson has read it before sending: Call me later?

She checked the Wild’s schedule already; they’re in town for a few more days. Tyson will probably be heading straight home—wherever “home” is these days— after the game. She spares a moment to wonder about the future of Tyson’s old apartment in Denver. She wonders if it’s been emptied out yet, wiped clean of all traces of Tyson, of them. That had been home to Tyson, and it had almost started to feel like home to Madison, too. 

Tyson sends her back a thumbs up emoji and an emoji with its tongue sticking out. Madison rolls her eyes fondly and tosses her phone back to the end of her couch. 

She’s dozing when her phone rings. Half-asleep, she fumbles for it before answering. “‘Lo?” she mumbles. 

Tyson chuckles softly at her. “You asked me to call you and then fell asleep,” he says, tsk-ing. 

Madison sticks her tongue out at him, even though he can’t see her. “Shut up, it’s late,” she whines. 

“Then go to bed, Mads,” Tyson tells her. She can tell he’s trying not to laugh at her.

Madison feels like a toddler protesting bedtime, but she says, “No! I wanna talk to you.”

Tyson laughs again. “Okay, are you at least in bed already?”

“...No.”

“Go brush your teeth, and get in bed, yeah? We can keep talking then.”

Madison sighs but heaves herself off her couch and into her bathroom. Tyson starts chatting as she walks, mindless stuff, like the weather in St. Paul, or how bored he is of living in a hotel room still. Madison puts him on speaker and sets her phone next to the sink so she can keep listening while she washes her face and brushes her teeth. It almost feels like getting ready for bed alongside Tyson again, elbowing each other for space in front of his bathroom mirror. 

He falls quiet as she crawls underneath her blankets. Madison stifles a yawn.

“How was it?” she asks.

“The game?” Madison nods, forgetting again that Tyson can’t see her. Tyson continues anyway. “I mean, it was fine, I guess. We won, so.”

“Just fine?” Madison prods.

Tyson hesitates. “Weird,” he says after a few seconds. “It was weird. Feels like a Twilight Zone episode, honestly. Like I woke up one day in some other life that everyone else swears didn’t happen. Like, you get traded, and everyone expects you to immediately fit in with this new locker room, and be all in with your new team. As if all the games played with your friends never even happened.”

Madison doesn’t know what to say to that. It must be weird to have to effectively sever all ties with your best friends. To know and trust the face across the faceoff dot from you. She probably couldn’t handle it if she were in Tyson’s place,

“I’m sorry, Tys,” she murmurs, for lack of anything better to say. “It’s business, but business is shitty.” 

Tyson huffs in agreement. Madison’s wearing the hoodie she stole from Tyson, and she tucks her nose underneath the collar. It doesn’t smell like Tyson any more. 

“Hey, is now a bad time to ask if we can have phone sex?” Tyson asks.

Madison bursts out laughing. “Yes, Tyson, it’s a terrible time.” Tyson whines a little at her. “Though,” she adds, “I am wearing one of your hoodies.”

Tyson groans. The few times Madison had worn something of his around him, it usually wasn’t long before the clothes ended up back on the floor.

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. His voice is muffled like he’s buried his head underneath a pillow.

Madison yawns again.

“You need to go to sleep,” Tyson tells her gently.

“No,” Madison protests again. “Tell me more about Minnesota,” she pleads. “I’ve missed listening to you.”

Madison can’t read Tyson’s moment of silence, but he starts doing as he’s told, telling Madison more about his hotel, about the food in the locker room after games at Xcel Center and how different it is from Denver, about all the different personalities on the team, until Madison falls asleep. 

Madison wakes up to a dead phone. She plugs it in while she showers, and she immediately checks her call log. Tyson had kept talking for well over an hour. He texted her, too, after he’d hung up. Miss you, promise we’ll talk more soon.

Madison responds the only way she knows how: 🖤.

April

The end of the season passes in a blur after that. Tyson settles in as best he can, but he feels like he barely has time to catch his breath. With the end of the season and the playoffs looming, there’s no time for Tyson to find a real place to live, so he’s still holed up in the hotel, living out of suitcases.

Time moves differently in hotels, he swears, the days blurring into one another. Tyson no longer knows what day it is; it’s only travel day, or game day, or rarely, a day off. 

The Wild are winning more than they lose, and Tyson manages to pick up some points here and there. It could be worse. At least it’s not, like, Buffalo. 

The team goes on the road for the first time since he got there, and it’s a good chance for Tyson to get to know everyone a little better, spend some time out of his generic hotel room—even if he goes back to another generic hotel room after each dinner out with the guys. He makes a point to call Madison as much as he can, which is almost every night after he crashes into bed and turns on some shitty TV. 

Their phone calls end up lasting for hours. Tyson realizes that he and Madison spent more time hooking up than really getting to know each other. It’s nice to take the time to just talk and learn things about Madison. Tyson feels himself falling in love more with each phone call.

Tyson talks about his family—his sister, his mom, his grandparents. How much he misses them with the long seasons away. How much he’s looking forward to going home to Alberta when the season ends. He doesn’t tell Madison that he wants to bring her home with him this summer, not yet. 

Madison tells Tyson about everything: her job (graphic design and marketing for a local business Tyson vaguely thinks he recognizes), her family (two sisters, one of whom Tyson briefly met), and her favorite movies (Lord of the Rings, but Tyson could have guessed that). When she tells him she likes to bake, Tyson immediately demands that she sends him some. He’s not even sure if he can get mail at the hotel, actually. Not important.

Tyson throws himself into hockey, though he’s not sure how much it shows. He’s determined to make this work, to stick and make a difference in Minnesota the way he never quite could in Colorado. He tells Madison this, too, voicing fears about his future in hockey that he’s never even let himself think about too much. 

The Wild plays the Avalanche again in St. Paul on the last day of the season. Tyson’s dreading it. He’s privately more than a little glad that they’re not playing the Avs in the first round, but he still can’t help but feel like he should be there instead, still on a powerhouse team poised to take on the postseason, not the underdogs.

Tyson calls Madison a week before the game, laying in bed, fresh off a single assist in back to back wins against Vancouver and Seattle. Tyson can hear the smile in Madison’s voice when she answers. Tyson’s chest hurts with how much he misses her.

Which is probably why he blurts, “Can you come to Minnesota?” 

Madison’s quiet for so long Tyson pulls his phone away from his ear to make sure the call didn’t disconnect. 

Finally, she says, “Tyson, I can’t just drop everything and fly to Minnesota.” “No, I know, I just meant next week,” he says. “We play the Avs again.”

Madison knows that, this time. She’s actually started paying attention to the Wild—mostly just Tyson, though—since April started.

“That’s a Friday night, Tys,” she tells him. “I’d have to take off work for the day.” She could, probably, without too much fuss. She just wants to hear Tyson beg a little. She’s still a tiny bit hurt by the way he stonewalled her after the trade. 

“I’ll pay for your plane ticket!” Tyson adds. That wasn’t really Madison’s point. “I really want you to be there, I need to see you again.” 

Madison already knows she can’t tell Tyson no. She sighs and drags her laptop towards her. She starts searching for plane tickets. “Just for the game on Friday, or am I allowed to stay the whole weekend?” she asks.

Tyson scoffs. “Like I’d let you leave after one night when I haven’t seen you in two like two months.” He’s already planning on only leaving the hotel room except for practice and maybe to finally take Madison on an actual date. Actually: “Hey, pack something nice to wear. I still owe you a date.”

Madison laughs. “How nice are we talking?”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna wine and dine you so hard,” Tyson says, breaking off into laughter before he can even finish the sentence. 

Madison spends the next week, alternating between excited and anxious. Excited because she hasn’t seen Tyson in weeks, and she can’t wait to be able to kiss him again. She’s not sure why she’s even worried. She and Tyson have already spent months doing almost everything couples do, just without the label. They already know they work well together. Adding a label shouldn’t change things. 

She goes out and buys a new dress the day before her flight, after frantically deciding that nothing in her closet was good enough for a first date.

“He already knows what you look like,” her sister Emma points out. “It’s not like you have to worry about him liking you. Also, he’s colorblind.”

Madison ignores her (annoyingly correct) sister and spends almost over an hour in the mall. She carefully packs the new dress at the top of her suitcase before zipping it up and leaving it by her front door. She’s so excited she can hardly sleep.

It’s not a long flight from Denver to Minnesota, but Madison’s not used to flying, and the whole affair has her stressed beyond belief. It takes her unbelievably long to find her gate, and even though she got to KDEN plenty early, she still worries that she’ll be late. It’s a relief when she can finally settle in her seat. She turns on a Disney movie she doesn’t really watch and counts the minutes until she can see Tyson again.

Except then she can’t find her luggage, and Tyson’s supposed to be picking her up and isn’t answering her texts. It takes her twenty minutes to find out that another passenger mistakenly took her suitcase and has brought it back, and Tyson still hasn’t responded to tell her that he’s waiting.

She makes her way outside anyway, following the signs towards parking. Her hands are too full with her carry-on and suitcase to reach for her phone to call Tyson, but when she steps outside her terminal, she recognizes the person behind the wheel of a car just pulling up to the curb.

Tyson has the car in park and is jumping out before Madison can take another step. She’s so overwhelmed she bursts into tears.

She drops her bags to launch herself at Tyson, wrapping her arms around his neck. He doesn’t stumble, just slides his arms around her waist and hugs her back.

“Whoa, whoa, why the tears?” he asks, wiping one away with his thumb. 

“I just really missed you,” Madison mumbles into his shirt.

Tyson presses a kiss to her hair. He unwraps one hand and reaches for the handle of Madison’s suitcase. “Well, let’s get you in the car, and then we can talk, yeah?” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer, letting go of Madison fully to swing her suitcase into the trunk. Madison slips into the passenger seat while he throws her carry-on in, too, before he’s jogging back to the driver’s side. He leans across the console to kiss Madison’s cheek.

“Missed you, too, by the way,” he says.

Madison feels silly for crying now. Everything always seems better when Tyson’s around, and right now is no exception, with the windows rolled down and Tyson singing loudly—and badly—to the song on the radio. Tyson reaches for Madison’s hand, and she lets him slip his fingers between hers. Something restless in Madison’s chest settles when he touches her. 

They don’t much as Tyson drives, the city flashing by out the car windows. It’s been ages since they saw each other, but they talk almost every day; there’s not much to catch up on. Madison likes it, the comfortable quiet between two people who know each other well. 

Tyson apologizes for the fact that he’s still living in a hotel on the elevator ride up to his room. 

“Tyson, I don’t care where you’re living, I’m just glad to be able to see you again,” she tells him.

Tyson blushes, but he also boxes her in against the elevator wall to kiss her properly for the first time since she got off the plane. Madison trails after him as he heads down the hallway and pushes open his hotel room door with a dorky sweep of his arm. 

The room’s bigger than Madison expected, with a kitchenette that doesn’t look like it’s been used at all, and a little couch and desk near the TV. Madison can see the bed, sheets rumpled and twisted like Tyson has never bothered to make it in the weeks he’s been here. Tyson’s watching Madison survey the room like he’s nervous. 

“So, what’s next?” Madison asks. 

With the game last night, Tyson didn’t have skate today, but she’s familiar enough with his game day routine to know he should probably be napping soon. She could go for a nap herself. Madison doesn’t wait for an answer, just dumps her carry-on bag on the couch and wanders over to the bed. Tyson follows, still rolling Madison’s suitcase behind him. Madison flops backwards onto the bed. The sheets smell like Tyson.

“Well?” she asks, raising one eyebrow at him.

Tyson scrambles onto the bed after her. He drops to his elbows above Madison and leans down to kiss her, eager and not exactly gentle. Madison reaches up to thread her fingers into his curls. She runs her fingers through his hair once, twice, before closing her hand and tugging. Tyson groans into her mouth, but he gentles the kiss. They make out until they’re both breathless, and Tyson has to pull away. 

“I really should nap,” he says once he catches his breath. Madison tilts her chin up for another kiss. Tyson rolls his eyes but obliges, just a quick peck. He shifts his weight to one hand and pinches the outside of Madison’s thigh with the other. “C’mon, I wanna cuddle.”

They both clamber up the bed until Madison can collapse onto the pillows. Tyson collapses on top of her. 

“Oof, bud, what the hell,” she manages. Tyson’s heavy, and it’s hard to breathe. 

“Told you I wanted to cuddle,” Tyson says back, face smushed into Madison’s collarbone.

Madison pokes Tyson in the ribs, then again, harder, when he doesn’t react, until he sighs and squirms off her. Her reprieve doesn’t long, though, because Tyson immediately reaches out for Madison and pulls her close. She rolls onto her side to face him, and he grins at her. 

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him.

Tyson’s grin only grows. “Yeah, but you like me.”

Madison slides a hand around the back of Tyson’s neck and kisses him. 

When Tyson's alarm goes off later, they’ve shifted in their sleep, and Tyson’s half-laying on top of Madison again. He slaps at his phone without moving and somehow manages to snooze the alarm. 

“Not ready yet,” Madison mumbles, wrapping an arm around Tyson and keeping him close. He huffs a laugh against Madison’s skin. 

“I’ve gotta get ready, baby,” he says. He kisses Madison’s shoulder.

Madison should probably get up, too. She wants to shower the plane funk off and make herself presentable for the game. But Tyson’s bed is really comfy. Tyson rolls off of her, and Madison whines at the loss of her human blanket.

Tyson shoots her an amused look. He leans back over Madison to kiss her one more time, but he avoids her attempts at dragging him back to bed. Madison pouts up at him. It doesn’t work. She watches from the bed as Tyson gets dressed in his gameday suit. He kisses her goodbye before he leaves. 

Left alone in the eerie silence of the hotel, Madison forces herself out of bed and into the shower. She brings her Bluetooth speaker with her, blasting one of her playlists loud enough to be heard over the water. She emerges in a cloud of steam to dig through her suitcase for the outfit she’d packed for tonight. She doesn’t own anything Wild-branded, and she doesn’t think wearing Tyson’s old Avalanche hoodie would go over too well. She’d had to buy something new for this, too: an amazing fleece-lined green corduroy jacket that she’d probably live in come fall. 

She takes the opportunity to poke around the hotel room a little, looking for traces of Tyson in the unfamiliar space. One of the blankets from his apartment was thrown carelessly across the foot of the bed. His ukulele sits on top of the desk. Madison hangs her date-night dress up in the little closet and finds her own good luck note to Tyson taped to the door. The kitchenette is full of Tyson’s snacks, including some of Madison’s favorites. It’s not much, but it’s enough. 

Madison eventually makes her way to the Xcel Center. She’s met by someone’s significant other outside—it’s a blur of faces and names she can hardly keep track of—before they head to their seats. She’d gotten used to the atmosphere at The Can, and Xcel Center is different but the same. It’s easy enough to settle into the rhythm of the game and the crowd. The game is wild from puck drop, but Minnesota manages to pull out a win. Tyson even scores the game winning goal. 

She follows the rest of the girls downstairs to the family room after the game. She’s restless, full of energy after the game, with no outlet for it. She all but tackles Tyson when he pokes his head in, stripped down to his base layers, but his curls still plastered to his head with sweat. 

“Whoa,” he says, steadying her as they tumble out into the hallway. He’s grinning at her, cheeks pink. He lets Madison pin him up against the wall opposite them. “Hi.”

Madison kisses him, before she can blurt something embarrassing, like, “I love you,” or, “That goal was hot.” Tyson makes a surprised noise into her mouth but kisses back easily, his hands tightening on her hips. He pulls away after a minute.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he whispers, kissing her temple. Louder, he says, “JT has requested to see you.”

Madison’s a little surprised, but pleased, to hear that. She’s hung out with JT a handful of times since she met him back in January, but she doesn’t think she’s talked to him since Tyson got traded. It had always felt more like JT was just a friend of a friend she got along with.

Tyson drags her down the halls towards the visitors’ locker room, JT’s already waiting for them, leaning against the door frame and messing around on his phone. Unlike Tyson, he’s dressed in clean clothes. He looks up as they approach and grins at them. Tyson doesn’t let go of Madison’s hand. 

JT ropes Madison into a one-armed hug. “Think you’re Josty’s good luck charm. He’s scored twice now at games you’ve been to.” Tyson sticks his tongue out at JT.

Someone from inside the locker room yells Tyson’s name, and he’s momentarily distracted. JT leans in closer to Madison.

“Take care of our boy, yeah?” he says, quietly so Tyson, who’s still talking to someone else, won’t hear. “He needs you.” 

Madison’s not sure how to respond to that. She’s saved by Tyson remembering they’re there. JT smacks a kiss to Madison’s cheek and nudges her back towards Tyson. 

“See you around?” he asks Tyson.

“C’mon, you know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Madison watches them hug, and then Tyson’s leading her back down the maze of hallways. He says something to her before dropping her off outside the family room, but she doesn’t really hear it, lost in her own thoughts, thinking about JT’s words.

She’s still thinking about what JT said when Tyson rejoins her, as they make their way back to the hotel, up the elevator and into Tyson’s hotel room. She and Tyson move quietly, easily, around each other as they start to change out of their game-day clothes. She’s still lost in her thoughts when Tyson hooks his chin over her shoulder, startling her as she’s taking her makeup off. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. He looks worried. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

Madison shrugs. “Nothing.”

Madison watches in the mirror as Tyson’s brow furrows further. “Did something happen?” Madison knows he’d been worried about how the Wild WAGs would receive her.

She shrugs Tyson’s chin off her shoulder, suddenly annoyed. “No, Tys, nothing happened.”

Nothing did happen, unless you count JT Compher’s casual words sending Madison into a spiral. 

Tyson slides between Madison and the sink. He crosses his arms. “I don’t believe you.”

Madison rolls her eyes, but gives Tyson a quick peck, before hip checking him out of the way so she can brush her teeth. Tyson watches, still suspicious. Madison ushers him towards the bed. He sits and drags Madison into his lap. He frowns up at her.

“Tys, really. Everything was just overwhelming, I guess.” Also not a lie; she’d never been to a hockey game as Tyson’s girlfriend—or, almost-girlfriend—and everything had been overwhelming in a way she hadn’t expected. Most things had been the same, but sitting with the rest of the wives and girlfriends and listening to them ask her questions about her life and job had almost felt like a well-meaning interrogation. 

“Promise?”

Madison kisses Tyson, slow and gentle. “Promise.”

She yelps when Tyson flips them suddenly. He rolls on top of her, propping himself up on his hands. Madison can tell that he’s not letting this go.

“Then what’s wrong?” He chews nervously on his lower lip for a moment. “And don’t say nothing, I know you’re lying.” 

Madison huffs. “Just something JT said.” She shoves at Tyson’s shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. His glasses are crooked from his acrobatics, and Madison reaches up to adjust those next. He swats at her hand.

“I’ll kill him,” he says confidently.

“First, I think JT would beat you in a fight,” Madison says. Tyson makes a noise of protest, and Madison slaps a hand over his mouth. “Second, it wasn’t anything bad, I don’t know, just made me think.”

Tyson pries Madison’s hand away. “Tell me, tell me, tell me,” he says.

He’s distracted enough that Madison can hook a leg over his hips and flip them back over. She settles across his lap as Tyson blinks dazedly up at her.

“He asked me to take care of you, said you need me, whatever.” Madison’s trying to brush it off, as if she hadn’t spent hours thinking about it, as if she doesn’t feel uncomfortably seen. Far too vulnerable for something that was supposed to just be a hook-up way back in November. 

They’ve come a long way since November.

Tyson’s face clears. “What do you mean, ‘whatever?’” He surges up to kiss Madison before he continues. “Of course I need you. I fucking miss you constantly. I’ve wanted literally nothing but to be around you, like, all the time since, like, December.”

“Oh.” Madison should have realized that, maybe. It’s different to hear Tyson lay it out like that. “I didn’t realize,” she whispers. Tyson grins up at her. “You did kinda ghost me for a while there,” she points out.

Tyson groans. “I am never gonna hear the end of that, am I?” He runs his fingers through Madison’s hair, tugs a little at the ends. “I panicked because I was terrified of losing you, remember?” He punctuates his sentence with another gentle kiss. His hand slips from Madison’s hair to her waist, underneath her T-shirt. He’s missed the feeling of her underneath his hands. An emotion Madison can’t read crosses his face for a second before he says, “Do you—do you not—?” Feel the same way, is what he means to say, but can’t quite get out.

Madison understands him, anyway. “No, God, Tyson, no.” She hesitates; she supposes they’re laying it all on the line here. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Tyson surprises her by bursting out laughing. Hurt, Madison tries to squirm out of Tyson’s lap, but he reels her in and kisses her until she melts into his hands.

“Baby, I’ve been in love with you since you showed up at my door for a Lord of the Rings marathon.” He giggles a little and kisses Madison’s nose. “We’ve done this all backwards, haven’t we?” 

Madison giggles a little too and nods. “I don’t think we’re very good at all this,” she whispers.

Tyson shakes his head, still laughing. “We’ll get better. I mean, look at us, we’re already communicating more!”

Madison kissed him again to shut him up, but by then they were both too busy laughing to take it much farther. Madison collapses to the sheets next to Tyson, letting herself dissolve into giggles. It feels good to laugh like this with Tyson, the last bit of uneasy tension Madison didn’t even know existed disappearing at last. Madison feels delirious with it: the stress of the last few weeks, the long day of travel and hockey, the raw vulnerability of finally being honest with Tyson.

They laugh for longer than the situation warrants. Tyson eventually heaves a sigh and turns his head on his pillow to look at Madison, eyes uncharacteristically serious. Madison sucks in a breath and forces herself to stop laughing.

“I mean it, you know,” Tyson says. “I’ve been falling for you for a long time.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, props himself up on an elbow. “I guess this means you’re officially my girlfriend now, huh?”

“Huh, guess so.” Tyson beams at her. “Don’t think this gets you out of wining and dining me tomorrow, though,” she threatens. 

Tyson leans down to kiss Madison. “I don’t put out on the first date,” he murmurs.

Madison drags him closer, slots her mouth against his again. “Bit late for that, babe.”

Madison wakes up late the next morning, bright sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. Tyson’s already awake, sitting up against the headboard and fucking around on his phone. He never got dressed besides finding his boxers, and his glasses are slipping down his nose. He grins down at her when he realizes she’s awake. 

“You’re a dork,” Madison says, rolling over to bury her face in a pillow again. Tyson pokes her shoulder blade, and she turns her head enough to glare at him. 

“Brunch in bed, or go somewhere?” Tyson asks, poking Madison again.

Madison’s not wearing anything, either, and she’d have to shower and fix her hair before they could leave the hotel room. “Bed,” she says, burrowing back into her pillow. Actually, it might be one of Tyson’s pillows. It’s hers now.

Tyson chuckles and rolls out of bed to hunt down the room service menu. He orders a bunch of stuff that they can share, but makes sure to include an omelet for Madison. He learned a while ago that she always has to have an omelet with breakfast. He’s also learned not to question it. He jumps back onto the bed. Madison bounces with it, and turns once more to glare at him. 

Her hair’s a disaster, and Tyson thinks he can see a hickey he left low on her neck. He loves her so much. He remembers he can tell her that now.

“I love you,” he blurts. Madison’s face softens. “Also, breakfast in thirty.” He tugs a little on the sheet where it’s slipping down Madison’s shoulders. “Plenty of time for…”

“For what, Tyson?” Madison asks. She’s laughing, now, and she rolls over, letting Tyson slide between her thighs and kiss her, slow and easy. 

He has to fish his boxers out of the sheets again when room service knocks on the door, but it’s worth it.

Madison drags herself out of bed after they eat. Tyson’s promised her plans all day, so she and Tyson take turns showering and making themselves presentable. Tyson holds Madison’s hand from the door of the hotel room until they reach his car, and even then, he only lets go after he opens the door for her and kisses her on the cheek.

It’s a warm spring day, and Tyson drives with the windows down through downtown St. Paul. He refuses to tell Madison where he’s taking her.

“Can we at least get coffee if you’re going to kidnap me?” Madison whines.

“I don’t think it’s kidnapping if you willingly got in the car,” Tyson points out mildly. He pulls into the next Starbucks drive-thru he sees, though, so Madison’s pretty sure she wins the argument.

Placated with caffeine, she stops pestering Tyson for details, but it’s only another few minutes before he’s turning into a parking lot for Como Park Zoo.

“Oh my God, are you serious?” Madison asks. She’d idly mentioned, a while ago, that she wanted to visit the Denver Zoo when it got warmer. She had no idea that Tyson would remember that.

Tyson smirks at her. “I think it’s a little smaller than Denver Zoo—”

Madison cuts him off. “Shut up, it’s gonna be great.”

And it is great. Madison all but runs between animal exhibits, and Tyson’s more than happy to be dragged along by the hand, even though he thinks his nose is getting sunburned. They entertain themselves by naming the animals after his old teammates.

“You can’t name them all EJ,” Madison says at one point. 

“Well, why not?” Tyson argues. Madison…doesn’t have a good argument for that, actually.

There’s gardens, too, and they wander through those after they’ve looped around the zoo, holding hands the whole time. Madison’s pretty sure she enjoys the flowers more than Tyson, but he waits good-naturedly when she stops to point out a pretty flower or to take some pictures. It all feels like a date, which Madison supposes it is, actually.

“Hey, wait,” Tyson says suddenly, after Madison stands back up from taking a photo. “We should get a picture of us.” He snatches Madison’s phone from her hand. 

There’s an older couple nearby, and Tyson approaches them with a smile. Madison can hear him asking if one of them would mind, “taking a picture of me and my girlfriend?” She’s sure she’s blushing when Tyson comes back over and winds an arm around her waist. She smiles obligingly at the camera next to Tyson, and doesn’t even flinch when he turns and smacks a kiss to her cheek for the last one.

Tyson’s gracious and sweet as he takes Madison’s phone back, but he turns on Madison with an evil glint in his eye.

“Shut up,” Madison says, turning and walking away from Tyson so he can’t see that she’s still blushing.

Tyson jogs to keep up, spinning around and walking backwards so he can keep smirking at Madison. “You liked hearing me call you my girlfriend, huh?”

“Shut up,” Madison says again.

Tyson steps in front of Madison suddenly, blocking her path completely. She bumps into him. He’s still grinning. “Get used to it fast, because I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re my girlfriend.” Madison claps a hand over his mouth before he can literally start yelling about it. Tyson pries her hand away and uses it to pull her in for a kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs. The novelty of hearing that from Tyson hasn’t worn off, either.

Madison kisses him again because she can. 

They head out not long after that. Tyson starts insisting that they can’t be late for their dinner reservation, even though it’s still early afternoon. Madison lets him take her by the hand again and all but drag her back to the car. 

She’s suddenly tired once she’s sitting back in the passenger seat, the sun and the walking catching up to her. She rests her head on the window while Tyson drives, fighting back a yawn. Tyson still catches her, and he reaches across to poke her in the thigh. She swats half-heartedly at his hand.

“Do I have time to take a nap?” Madison murmurs.

“What? No way!” He pokes Madison harder. “I’m supposed to be wining and dining you, remember?” 

“But I’m sleepy,” Madison whines. She’ll rally, probably; she needs to complain a little first. Tyson pokes her harder.

“That’s not allowed,” Tyson says. It’s not a long drive back to the hotel, and they’re most of the way back there already. Tyson checks the time on the dashboard. There’s still a few hours before their dinner reservation. “Okay, how about a mini nap?” he allows. “But we’re setting like three alarms.” 

It’s important to him that he still gets this first date right, even if they have done their entire relationship backwards. They got to the right place in the end, though, right?

Madison crashes into bed as soon as they’re back in the room. Tyson considers her for a moment. She’s already wriggled under the sheets, but she’s lying directly in the middle of the bed.

Tyson collapses on top of Madison. He catches himself at the last second so he doesn’t completely crush her, because he’s nice like that. Madison giggles, but she squirms and tries to elbow Tyson.

Her voice is muffled into the pillow as she tries to say, “Get off me.”

Tyson lets his weight press her further into the mattress. “Nope, ‘m comfy.” He does fish his phone out of his pocket to set an alarm and roll off Madison. He pulls Madison close as soon as he lands on his side next to her. “Shh, sleep now.”

They’re both jolted awake half an hour later when Tyson’s alarm goes off. Madison whines and presses closer. Tyson kisses the top of her head where she’s tucked under his chin.

“We need to get up,” Tyson whispers. Madison blinks sleepily up at him. 

Tyson forces himself to disentangle himself from Madison. When she doesn’t get up after him, he grabs her by the ankles and drags her to the end of the bed, ignoring her laughter and shrieks.

Tyson follows Madison into the bathroom after she digs her makeup bag and curling iron out of her suitcase, plops himself down on the marble countertop of the sink. Madison raises her eyebrow at him as she plugs the curling iron in and turns it on. Tyson beams at her.

“I wanna watch,” Tyson says simply, still smiling innocently.

He does watch, intent on Madison as she starts to section her hair.

“What’s that for?” he asks. He hands Madison a hair clip.

She brandishes the curling iron at him. “So it’s easier to curl.” 

Tyson’s quiet for a few more minutes before he slides Madison’s makeup bag closer and starts pawing through it. He pulls items out one by one and starts asking questions, mostly more of, “What’s this for?”—a makeup sponge, eyeliner, one of those jumbo eyeshadow crayons—until most of the contents of Madison’s makeup bag are strewn across the counter around Tyson. 

“Are you proud of yourself?” Madison teases. Tyson snaps a compact of blush shut, surveys the damage he’s done. Madison’s momentarily distracted by Tyson’s shenanigans, and one of her fingers brushes across the hot barrel of the curling iron. “Ah, shit,” she hisses.

Tyson’s immediately serious. “Are you okay?” He grabs at Madison’s hand, bringing it close to his face to inspect her finger. Madison bites her lip to keep from laughing. Tyson frowns before carefully pulling Madison’s finger to his lips, kissing it gently. “There. All better.” 

“I love you,” Madison hears herself saying. She’s not used to being able to just say it. Tyson beams at her again.

Tyson behaves himself while Madison finishes her hair and makeup, though he does giggle at the faces Madison pulls while she’s trying to apply mascara. He even helps put away all the makeup he got out. He finally hops off the counter to start getting ready himself.

Madison grabs his wrist when he reaches for the bottle of hair gel. “Nope, I’m rescinding your gel privileges.” She dies a little inside every time she sees a new photo of Tyson and his curls smothered in gel. Tyson squirms, trying to free his hand; Madison tightens her grip.

“Just a little?” Tyson pleads. 

“No, I like your curls!” For emphasis, Madison cards her free hand through Tyson’s curls.

Tyson grumbles at her and tries to tamp his hair back down. “You’re gonna make it frizzy,” he complains. Madison is still tightly holding onto his wrist. “Ugh, fine, but just for tonight.” 

Madison releases his wrist and kisses Tyson’s cheek as she steps past him out of the bathroom. Tyson blinks at himself in the mirror, wondering what the hell just happened.

Madison’s changed into a dress when Tyson finally makes his way out of the bathroom, too, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide on a pair of heels. She watches Tyson change with a small smile on her face. Tyson takes Madison’s hand and pulls her to her feet, twirling her once before pulling her close for a kiss.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Tyson says, and Madison has to laugh.

Dinner is pretty nice, as first dates go. Tyson picked a good restaurant—good food, nice environment, but not so fancy Madison feels out of her depth—and Madison already knows that he’s good for conversation. The good thing about falling in love before you actually start dating is that you’ve already gotten the awkwardness and discomfort out of the way already, Madison supposes.

She’s even mostly immune to the sad eyes Tyson directs at her as he pleads his case for getting dessert. Mostly. (They end up splitting a slice of tiramisu.)

The weekend passes too quickly. Madison blinks and suddenly she’s standing in the middle of Tyson’s hotel room, trying to figure out if she’s forgotten to re-pack anything. 

“Stay,” Tyson begs. “A few more days, through the beginning of the series.”

“Tyson, I can’t, I have to get back to Denver for work, you know that.”

Tyson does know that, but he also hates coming back to a dark and empty hotel room every night after games. He tries to tackle Madison to the bed, but she side-steps Tyson and crosses her arms at him, disapproval in her eyes. Tyson feels a bit like a scolded child for a moment. 

“What if I refuse to drive you to the airport, huh? Then you’ll have to stay.” Tyson knows it’s a weak argument, but he’s desperate here. 

Madison’s glare softens. She cups Tyson’s face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Tyson, but I really have to go. I’ll see you soon, okay? We’ll figure something out.” She punctuates this with a kiss. Tyson leans into it, his hands tight on Madison’s waist. 

“Soon,” Tyson repeats. “I love you,” he adds.

Madison kisses him again, and Tyson slips a hand beneath her shirt, her skin warm beneath his hand. She shudders and kisses him harder. They both startle when the alarm Madison set to make sure they leave for the airport on time goes off. Tyson tries to follow her when she pulls away to silence it.

“Time to go,” Madison says sadly.

After Tyson drops Madison off at Departures, he’s grateful that she’s not there to see him wipe away some tears. 

May

Madison sees the Avs’ WAG jackets on Instagram the night they start the first round. The WIld had played the night before, an ugly loss Madison hadn’t been able to tear her attention away from. She could have had one of those jackets, sitting next to Syd and all the other girls. Instead, she’s back in her apartment in Denver, alone. 

She wishes she could have stayed in Minnesota with Tyson for the first two games of the series. She gets a text from Tyson after the game that’s just a thumbs down emoji. Madison “dislikes” it out of solidarity. Tyson doesn’t call her that night. Madison has to remind herself that it’s okay, that they don’t have to talk all the time.

She watches anxiously two nights later as the Wild drag out a win, clutching a glass of wine for emotional support the whole time. 

Before she can think too hard about it, Madison’s opening her laptop. She’s in the middle of searching flights to St. Louis when her phone rings. It’s Tyson, and Madison doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“I miss you,” she says, before Tyson can get a greeting out. She has perhaps had a little too much wine. 

He chuckles. “It’s been less than a week, baby.” But then he adds, “I miss you, too.”

Madison shoves her laptop away and flops backwards on her bed. Last minute plane tickets are so expensive. So are playoff hockey tickets, apparently. She wonders if it would be easier to just drive to St. Louis.

“Wish I could be there,” she says next, even though she had just turned down Tyson when he’d asked her to stay. 

“Yeah, me too,” Tyson says after a beat. He doesn’t offer to fly Madison out again, though Madison can tell he wants to.

She doesn’t tell him that she’s only a few clicks away from buying herself tickets and meeting him in Missouri. Though she should probably do it while she’s not sober, before she can talk herself out of it in the morning. 

“Oh, good game, by the way,” Madison remembers to say.

Tyson huffs. “Are you already in bed?” Tyson asks. Madison can hear him banging around his hotel room, tinny and muffled where her phone has slid off her pillow. 

“Sorta,” Madison tells him. She pulls her laptop closer again. She could fly out after work and make it to the arena without missing too much of the game, probably. She winces again at the outrageous prices for the game. There aren’t even any good seats left.

Tyson speaks again. “Go to sleep, we can talk in the morning. I just wanted to say good night to you.” 

“In a minute,” she whines. She’s trying to remember her credit card number without having to get up and dig it out of her purse.

Tyson must hear her keyboard clacking. “What are you still doing on your computer?”

“Online shopping,” Madison lies. Well, half-lies. She is spending plenty of money right now. She triple-checks that her flight is booked correctly and that she purchased the ticket for the game before she finally slams her laptop shut and tosses it aside. “There, I’m done,” she tells Tyson.

“Buy anything good?” Tyson asks through a yawn. 

“Hope so, we’ll see.”

On Friday, Madison rushes off the plane, rushes through baggage claim, and rushes through renting a car. She’s cutting it close on time, with less than half an hour until puck drop. She drives as carefully and quickly as she can on the unfamiliar roads to the arena, one eye on the clock the whole time. The streets and parking around Enterprise Center are a fucking nightmare, but when she finally parks and makes it to the front doors, there’s still lines of people milling about, waiting to get in, too.

Madison checks her watch. Puck dropped five minutes ago. She pushes around a group of people who are somehow already drunk and towards the front of a line. All hockey arenas are the same, in a way, but Madison is immediately overwhelmed and disoriented. The first period is half over by the time she manages to get to the upper level and settle in her seat, but at least she finally made it. 

Madison takes a photo of the ice and texts it to Tyson with her usual black heart emoji. He’ll see it eventually. 

Madison has to keep herself from cheering too loudly for every Wild goal, surrounded by Blues fans as she is, and she’s probably one of the only people in the arena who’s happy when the Wild manage a neat win. 

She follows the throngs of people outside and back to her rental car. She has a text from Tyson waiting for her, just a string of exclamation marks. Another text comes through while she’s waiting for traffic to thin out, a request for Madison to call Tyson in all capital letters. Tyson’s breathless when he answers Madison’s call. “What the hell are you doing in St. Louis?” 

“Surprise?” Madison says weakly. 

Tyson laughs. “Hell of a surprise, babe.” He must pull his phone away from his ear, because Madison can still hear him speaking, but distantly. “Hang on, I’m trying to get you the address of the hotel, you can meet me there, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Madison says. Tyson’s gone again, not really listening.

“Hey, I’ve gotta go, I’ll text you where to go, and I’ll see you soon, okay?” He hangs up without letting Madison reply, but he texts again seconds later with the name and address of the team hotel. 

Madison is anxiously idling in the hotel driveway when the team bus pulls in behind her. Tyson bounds off the bus almost before it comes to a full stop, and he races over to Madison’s car door and taps on the window.

Madison rolls down the window. “And what if it hadn’t been me in the car?” she teases.

Tyson is reaching through the now-open window to try and unlock the door, his tongue sticking out the way it does when he’s focusing on the ice. “I would have apologized. A lot.” He successfully presses the unlock button and yanks the car door open. “Come here, come here,” he says.

Madison laughs and climbs out of the car. Both of her feet aren’t even out of the car before Tyson’s sweeping her up in a hug so tight she swears she can feel her ribs shift. He sets her down and immediately cups her face.

“You’re here, I can’t believe you’re here.” Tyson narrows his eyes, and he squishes Madison’s cheeks where he’s still holding her face. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming.” 

Madison pries Tyson’s hands away enough to talk. “I wanted to surprise you.” Tyson’s teammates are still filtering off the bus, and they should probably move inside, too. “Can you let go of me so I can get my bag out of the trunk?” she asks.

Tyson considers this. He slides one hand down Madison’s arm until he can tangle their fingers together. He also leans into the car and deftly turns it off, holding the keys up with a grin. He nudges the door shut. “We can get your bag out of the trunk.” He proceeds to drag Madison around to the back of the car and drags her suitcase out of the back with his free hand. He stares between the suitcase in his hand and the open trunk before Madison takes pity on him and slams the trunk shut.

Madison hangs back while Tyson hands the car keys off to a valet, and then he’s dragging her towards the elevators, happily rolling Madison’s suitcase in front of him. At least the rest of the Wild players have all disappeared, sparing Madison from their stares and jeers. She tucks herself closer to Tyson in the elevator, suddenly self-conscious. Tyson kisses her temple.

Madison is suddenly exhausted as soon as they enter Tyson’s room. Tyson flips the light on as Madison kicks off her shoes. Tyson left the curtains open earlier, and Madison can see the Arch, lit up above the river, through the window. She’s too tired to give it more than a half-hearted glance on her way to face-planting into the pillows. 

Tyson’s laughing when she rolls over and brushes her hair out of her face. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here,” he says, jumping onto the bed next to Madison, and, really, that’s all that matters.

The Wild lose the next game at Enterprise, and Madison holds Tyson tightly for a long time in the hall outside the locker room before he has to get on a plane. They lose again at home, then yet again back in St. Louis. 

Just like that, hockey season is over. 

Tyson calls Madison after the last game. He sounds like he’s been crying, but he tries to be cheerful for Madison. She just wishes she could hug him, but she’s back in Denver. She knows the Avs swept the Predators already, and they’ll be facing St. Louis next. It’s not difficult to imagine how Tyson feels about that. 

“Come home with me,” Tyson blurts. He’s on the phone with Madison, getting ready to leave his Minnesota hotel room behind. He survived locker cleanout and exit interviews, and now he’s ready to sleep for about a week.

Madison, in the middle of complaining at work, freezes. “I—what?” She takes another moment to process. “Aren’t you coming back to Denver first?” Madison knows his apartment sits half-abandoned, filled with things too difficult or unnecessary to move after the trade. 

“Well, yeah, but like, after. You should come home with me,” Tyson repeats. He’s been dying to introduce her to his mom for months. He hopes his mom likes Madison as much as he does. He is a little worried about his sanity if Madison and Kacey get along as well as he thinks they will, though. 

“I’ve never been to Canada before,” Madison says thoughtfully. She’s barely travelled abroad at all, except for one trip to the UK after she graduated high school. Her passport has been collecting dust since then. 

“So you’ll come?” Tyson asks. 

“Is there even anything to do in Edmonton?” Madison teases.

“There’s so much to do, like—” Tyson pauses. It’s been a while since he’s had to play tourist back home. Madison is giggling on the other end of the line. “Shut up, we’ll figure something out.”

Tyson feels like he can breathe properly for the first time in months when he steps out of the airport in Denver. He wonders if any place will ever feel like home the way Denver does.

Tyson had managed to wheedle JT into picking him up, and he even brought coffee. Tyson ignores the way it almost feels like an apology. JT has nothing to be apologizing for, but Tyson just sips his coffee. 

The apartment smells stale when they walk in. Tyson’s mom had done a good job of cleaning for him, at least, and there aren’t any dirty dishes still stacked in the sink. He and JT are quiet as they walk through the apartment, opening windows. Tyson feels like he’s walking through someone else’s life. He stares for too long at his bed, freshly made and untouched for weeks. 

He shakes it off and goes to find the moving boxes.

“So, this is it, huh?” JT says.

He could be talking about all the boxes they’ve spent the last few hours filling boxes and separating them into piles to be shipped off to Minnesota—Tyson finally signed a lease for an apartment there—or to be sent back home for his family to deal with. An alarming amount of Tyson’s clothes is Avalanche-branded gear, and more of it got packed away to keep than Tyson is willing to admit. 

He could also be talking about the end of everything they’ve known together in Denver. Tyson’s spent years accepting the fact that hockey is a business before everything else, has gotten used to the revolving door of teammates each season. It’s been a long time since Rookie House days with Kerf. Tyson is going to walk out that apartment door, and he’s never going to be able to go back. A chapter—or book, really—in the story of his life ended for good. 

Tyson sighs. “This is it.”

The apartment is stripped bare when Madison steps through the door, left unlocked by JT and Tyson.

She drops her laptop bag and kicks off her shoes, saying, “You should be more careful, anybody could just walk in here.”

Tyson drops the box he’s holding and whirls around. Madison winces as its contents rattle. There’s no time to say anything else before Tyson is bounding across the room and wrapping her in a huge hug. 

“What, no hug for me?” JT asks from somewhere behind them. Tyson turns to glare at him, but Madison shoots him a smile.

“Hey, JT,” she says. She lets JT drape an arm around her in a half-hug.

“Betrayal,” Tyson says. He is ignored. 

They leave most of the boxes for the moving company to deal with. Madison bundles Tyson into her car with his bags of clothes, complaining the whole time about wanting dinner. She lets Tyson hold her hand across the console as she drives him to her apartment. 

It’s not the first time Tyson’s been to Madison’s apartment, but it still feels strange to be there instead of his own. They’ve spent so much time there the past few months, watching movies on the couch, doing things other than sleeping in the bed. He misses it already, all the memories they made as they fumbled their way into a relationship. 

He says as much to Madison, expecting her to tease him for something so objectively dumb—to miss an apartment he lived in half of the time for like six months—but the look she gives him is almost sad.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” she says. Tyson pulls her in by the hips, letting her lean her weight on him. “But I guess we’ll just have to keep making more memories, yeah?” 

Later that night, tangled up in Madison’s sheets, Tyson stares at the dark ceiling. He can feel Madison, looking rumpled and in his shirt, watching him. She nudges his calf with her toes. He doesn’t look at her, focused on keeping his eyes from welling up. Then Madison’s hand is on his cheek, turning his head towards her.

“How you doin’, bud?” 

Tyson lets Madison pull him close and hold him tightly. He slides a hand under her shirt and to the bare skin of her hip, just feeling the comforting warmth of her skin. 

“What if it’s never like this again?” Tyson whispers back. This—Denver and the Avalanche, friends who become family; Madison in bed next to him, loving him and wearing his clothes. Minnesota had been okay, but Tyson worked his ass off and never felt settled. Maybe it was the endless hotel life, maybe it was the team, maybe it was him. He feels like a child, begging his mom to tell him everything was going to be okay. 

Madison doesn’t know how to comfort Tyson. It probably never will be like this again. Madison can’t see the future, and she can’t promise Tyson anything, either. “I don’t know, baby,” Madison admits. “I don’t know.” 

Tyson doesn’t cry, but they both lay awake for a long time. 

June

They fly into Edmonton together on Friday. Tyson seems nervous the whole flight and all the way through the airport. At baggage claim, as they wait for their suitcases, Madison turns on him.

“What’s up with you?” she asks. Tyson blinks at her like he forgot she was there. “You’re not seriously this worried about me meeting your family, are you?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know!” Tyson crosses his arms. He’s pretty sure his suitcase just spun past them on the carousel. He lowers his voice. “I don’t really bring girls home, I don’t know. I don’t know how this is supposed to go.”

“Oh, Tys. It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Madison tosses her hair, and Tyson manages a weak smile. “Your family is going to love me so much they’ll forget you even exist.”

“Hey!”

Tyson had lobbied hard for taking an Uber from the airport, to give Madison and himself a few last moments of peace before a week with his family, but his mom had put her foot down and insisted on picking them up. She’s already idling at the curb when they step out of the airport.

Madison calls shotgun, leaving Tyson to throw their suitcases in the trunk and slide into the backseat. His mom is in the middle of telling Madison, “Call me Laura, please!” Madison turns in her seat to grin at Tyson as his mom pulls away and starts driving out of the airport. She refrains from grilling Madison on the short drive home, something Tyson is grateful for. He zones out while Madison explains where she grew up and what she does and lets himself relax back into his seat.

Before he knows it, they’re pulling up to the house, and Kacey is sprinting out the front door to greet them. Tyson groans, but he eagerly shoves his car door open before the car is in park and lets Kacey jump on him. 

Madison gets out of the car at a more leisurely—and sane—pace, and Kacey turns to wrap her in a hug as soon as she lets go of Tyson.

“I’m Kacey,” she says, pulling away and gripping Madison by the shoulders. “The better Jost sibling.”

Tyson pulls on Kacey’s ponytail. She smacks him in the chest without turning around. Tyson’s about to lunge and get Kacey in a headlock when their mom yells, “Behave,” at them from the front door.

Madison’s looking faintly overwhelmed. Tyson mouths “You okay?” at her over Kacey’s shoulder. Madison just grins and lets Kacey grab her by the hand and drag her inside. He’s pretty sure he hears Kacey telling her how much their grandparents can’t wait to meet her as they go. He shakes his head and retrieves their luggage from the trunk.

He’s missed all the introductions by the time he makes it inside. Madison sits on the couch next to Kacey, the spot on Madison’s other side left conspicuously open. Tyson ignores Kacey’s smirk and plops himself down next to Madison. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Tyson’s grandpa asks.

Tyson refrains from glaring at him. Madison laughs next to him.

“He picked me up in a bar, and I had no idea he was a hockey player,” she says. Tyson had almost forgotten about that part. “We kinda just…kept seeing each other after that.” 

That’s a delicate way of putting it.

“So you’re the reason Tyson ditched us over Christmas, huh?” Kacey asks next. She’s smirking again, directed straight at Tyson over Madison’s head. Tyson has not forgotten that part, struggling to lie to Kacey and his mom.

“Kacey!” Tyson and his mom both protest, but Madison just laughs again. Something about the question melts all of the tension out of her shoulders. She turns a little to lean against Tyson.

“Yeah, that was me,” Madison says. Tyson can’t see her face, but she doesn’t sound very sheepish. She tilts her chin to look up at Tyson. “I should’ve known something was up when he couldn’t go more than a few days without seeing me.” “Hey,” Tyson protests again, weakly. She’s right, though. They really should have figured out their shit sooner, but they got to the right place eventually. 

Conversation drifts away from the topic of their relationship after that. Tyson drapes an arm across Madison’s shoulders. After a while of catching up—Tyson and hockey season, or Kacey and her school year—mixed in with his family asking Madison questions to get to know her better, Tyson’s mom and grandma head to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

Madison tries to follow and offer to help, but Tyson tightens his arm around her. He kisses her forehead, whispering, “Stay here,” into her hair. Madison stays.

They’re getting ready for bed later—banished to separate rooms, of course—when Madison notices Tyson getting nervous again.

“What’s up?” Madison asks, sliding between him and the bathroom sink. They’re pushing it, probably, spending this long in the bathroom with the door closed. 

Tyson shrugs. “Worried about you and Kacey spending all night gossiping.” They’d really hit it off over dinner, which Tyson is simultaneously grateful for and horrified by. From the look Madison gives him, she’s not buying it. “It’s just…the Avs are in town tomorrow night, and I got tickets, and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, but I want to go, and—”

Madison cuts him off with a hand over his mouth. “Tyson, I’d love to go to the game with you.”

Tyson relaxes again, and Madison moves her hand. Tyson takes the opportunity to bully her up against the sink and kiss her. Tyson’s just getting into it when Kacey bangs on the bathroom door. He’s pretty sure he accidentally bites Madison’s lip when he jerks away. Madison grumbles at him, but she ducks around him to open the door. Tyson tries not to whine about it.

Going to the game together the next night is strange. Tyson hasn’t been to Rogers Place and not been playing a game since he was a kid, probably. Madison had never really been to a hockey game before she’d met Tyson, and she’s definitely never gone to a game with Tyson. 

They mostly go unnoticed, except for a handful of people who stop Tyson and ask for a picture. Madison hangs back while he politely smiles at the camera. It’s easy to fade into the crush of the crowd, and Tyson keeps a tight hold and Madison’s hand as they make their way through the concourse and to their seats.

After that, it’s just like any other hockey game. Cheering for the Avalanche is familiar, even if the way Tyson is squeezing Madison’s hand at every single scoring chance is not. She’d tease him for his nervousness, especially because the Avalanche are winning easily, except for the fact that she knows it had to be hard for him to come out tonight. To cheer for his old team, his friends, knowing that with every win they’re one step closer to something he can’t be a part of. 

So she lets him hold her hand as tightly as he wants. It’s the best she can offer. 

They don’t linger after the game. Tyson seems eager to escape the arena, and Madison lets him lead her back to the car. He puts on a Spotify playlist and turns the volume up loud, but he’s mostly quiet on the drive to the house, one hand on the wheel, one hand on Madison’s thigh.

Madison gets caught up talking to Laura when they get to the house, and she loses track of Tyson for a while. He’s not upstairs in his old bedroom, or even bugging Kacey in her bedroom. Madison ventures outside. Tyson has dragged a lawn chair out to the driveway, but he’s laying on his back on the cold concrete, staring up at the dim stars. The moon is just a sliver in the sky. 

Madison nudges him with her foot. He wraps a hand around her ankle, squeezes once.

“You alive down there?”

Tyson makes a sound that almost passes for a laugh. Madison is pretty sure his eyes are wet, shiny in the dark. Madison lays down next to him. The concrete is hard against her shoulder blades, and it feels damp through her thin T-shirt. 

“This fucking sucks,” Tyson says. It’s too loud for how late it is, and his voice echoes a little around the quiet street. He rubs a hand angrily across his face. “I want to be out there, playing for the Cup, not fucking sitting in the arena watching them. I guess I should be happy for them because they’re my friends, you know? But I kinda want to hate them, too.” He’s quiet for a moment. He reaches for Madison’s hand, brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to her palm, before settling their clasped hands on his chest. “I might not have asked for a trade if I had known it would be this shitty,” he admits.

“It’s okay to be mad, Tyson,” Madison says gently.

“It’s not—I don’t know if I’m mad. I wish I could be.”

“It’s okay to be sad, too,” she says.

“Yeah,” Tyson says, voice thick. 

They’re both quiet for so long, Madison’s half-certain Tyson’s fallen asleep, if not for his occasional sniffle. He sits up after a while, still holding Madison’s hand. Even in the dark, Madison can see him yawn.

“Ready for bed?” Madison asks.

Tyson nods. “D’you think I can sneak you into my bed?”

He pulls Madison to her feet as she lets out a startled laugh. Tyson kisses her quiet. “I’m willing to get in trouble if you are.”

The house is dark when they slip back inside. They giggle their way through brushing their teeth, close together at the bathroom sink, elbows bumping. Tyson shushes her loudly as they tiptoe carefully down the hall. Madison’s pretty sure he’s being louder than her, but whatever.

Madison wakes to an empty bed and late morning sunlight. She can hear Tyson’s voice drifting up the stairs. That boy truly does not know how to be quiet. Madison has an Instagram notification when she swipes her phone off the bedside table: josty17 has tagged you in a post. Madison frowns and unlocks her phone, wondering what unflattering photo of her Tyson took. Instead, it’s a photo Kacey or Laura must have taken the morning before. Madison’s laying on top of Tyson on the couch, Tyson visibly complaining that he’s being squished, despite the fact that he had pulled Madison on top of him. He captioned it with a black heart emoji. 

Madison makes her way downstairs. Tyson sits at the kitchen table, arguing with Kacey over something stupid. He reaches a hand out for Madison without stopping whatever he’s ranting about. There’s a fresh mug of coffee in his hand, already doctored the way Madison likes it. Tyson uses his now-free hand to loop around Madison’s waist and tug her onto his lap. She hooks her arms around Tyson’s neck and sips her coffee, content to listen to this argument, even though she’s still not sure what they’re arguing about. She thinks she hears something about which fruit would make the best weapon. 

It might not be easy, but Madison thinks they’ll be just fine.

[fallinallincurls]

bre's birthday fic bingo!!

sooo it's somehow already april which means my birthday is this month! i had thought about doing this after seeing a few of mutuals do it for their birthdays so figured i’d give it a try!

basically, the idea is to write a fic that includes four squares to make bingo (but also okay if it's just a random four tropes on the board that don't make bingo)!

please don't feel any pressure to participate in this!! i just thought it would be something fun to try out.

here's a list of who i write/read for (the most): mathew barzal, nathan mackinnon, nico hischier, brock boeser, cale makar, tyson jost, quinn hughes and anthony beauvillier

thank you a million times in advance if you decide to do this! 🫶🏼 lots of love to you💞

tagging some mutuals who might be interested but no pressure!:

@wyattjohnston @tonyspep @senditcolton @laurenairay @sc0tters @offside-the-lines @tkwrites @comphy-and-cozy @barzysunflower

[ahonice]

Until Now

Until Now

Cale Makar x Reader x Tyson Jost

Warnings: drinking, toxic relationships, some sexual scenes but no actual smut (ok maybe a little smut, depends on what you define it as).

WC: 11k (got a little carried away sorry babes)

*Some things might not actually match up to the real life timeline and something just straight up never happened, this is a work of fiction.*

*March 15th 2022*

“I don’t understand why you’re getting so upset.”

That phrase only made you more upset. Tyson had just found out he was being traded a couple hours before and he immediately began packing his things, and yours.

“Tyson I cannot just pick up my life and move across the country. My friends are here, my family is here, I have a job that I love here, I am not leaving.” 

“If any of the other guys were traded their partners wouldn’t have to think twice about going with them. Why do you have to be so difficult? Quit your job, I can provide for the two of us, and we can come back to visit during the holidays. All I want is my girlfriend and for us to be there for each other.”

“No, what you want is a trophy wife and I will not be that. This is over Tyson, thanks for the headstart on packing my shit. I’ll be back in the morning to get all my stuff.”

***

You had plenty of options of where to stay overnight, plenty of them having no ties with Tyson or any of the Avalanche players for that matter, but you still found yourself at Cale’s front door. After knocking and getting no answer you began heading towards the stairwell but the sound of a door opening stopped you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? It's late, come in.” 

“He is getting traded.”

“I know, it’s so unfortunate, I’m gonna miss him.”

Cale didn’t just assume you were leaving your life in Colorado behind, you appreciated that.

“We broke up. He wanted me to just drop everything and follow him like I’m some sad little puppy who can’t function without its owner.” 

“Oh. Well, do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Yes. “No. Just wanted a friend to talk to, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do now.”

And that is what Cale was that night, a friend for you to talk to, as well as a friend who did not let you leave once the both of you realized it was almost 3am and gave you his guest bed to sleep on.

 ***

You had called out of work on your way to Cale’s last night knowing you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to teach rambunctious high school students about whichever history course of yours they were enrolled into. 

Walking out of the guest room you were met with an empty apartment, which was to be expected as the Avalanche had a practice scheduled at this time. I cleaned up any mess I made in the guest bedroom and tidied up around the living room, texting Cale a thank you for everything before slipping out of his apartment and heading over to yours.

***

“Where did you go last night? None of your friends could tell me where you were, I was worried sick.”

The first words to come out of Tyson’s mouth upset you more than they probably should’ve.

“I’m not yours to worry about anymore Tyson.”

You walked towards the bedroom without another word, more rage blinded you as you saw all of your things Tyson had previously packed now out of their boxes and put back where they used to belong. 

Before you were able to yell out towards your ex you felt a presence at the door.

“I’m not breaking the lease, this is where you live too. I’m not just gonna leave you with nowhere to stay, I’m not that cruel.” 

“I can’t afford this place by myself, you know that.”

It was true, while you loved your job, you were still a public school teacher in a very underfunded school district. Tyson always offered to just cover all of the rent, but ended up settling for a 70/30 split rent, you insisted on helping out even if it was the smallest amount of money. 

“I know, I paid for the next three months in advance. If you plan on moving out please just wait three months, I know you don’t like money wasted.”

“Tyson, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He trailed off realizing the time. “I should go, I have a flight to catch.”

You nodded, sniffling. You don’t know when you teared up, but they were now clouding your vision. 

“Baby, please don’t cry. I know we aren’t together anymore, but I don’t want to lose contact with you. Please reach out to me, I know I will reach out to you.”

“What about Cleo?” 

Cleo, the cat you two had together, had never been Tyson’s biggest fan. You liked to blame it on her not liking men, but Tyson always fired back with a “She loves Cale.” That was true, she loved Cale, probably more than she loved you.

“She can stay here with you, she would probably run away if I took her.”

You laughed at his statement.

“She would miss Cale too much anyways. “ You joked. “Thank you.”

“Of course, you know she loves you more than me.”

“No Tys, thank you for everything. These past three years have been amazing, I love you.”

“I love you too Y/n.” His phone ringing interrupted him. “I really need to go, my uber is here. Don’t be a stranger Y/n, I expect to be hearing from you.”

***

*April 11th 2022*

Tyson definitely reached out more than you did, but he still got the occasional message from you with an update on Cleo or something that happened to you during work that day. He did get a picture of you in the jersey he sent just days after he moved out, the green material and the number 10 feeling foreign on you, having never worn anything with “JOST” on it that wasn’t navy or maroon. 

Almost a month later you sat in your apartment watching the Wild game, wearing Tyson’s jersey cuddled up with Cleo, who you had somehow gotten to wear the Wild bandana Tyson sent a few days ago, sending him a selfie of the two of you with a text message right after saying, “Rooting from you, Cleo isn’t suffering in that bandana for you to lose the game!” 

A knock on your door interrupted the trance you had been in while watching the game, your first plan to ignore whoever was at your door was abandoned as the person continued knocking, now almost banging on the door.

You cautiously opened the door, immediately fearing who or what could be behind that door.

“Hey.”

It was Cale.

“Hey Cale, what’s up.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, just wanted to check in. You’ve been ignoring my messages and calls, I know because you’ve been ignoring everyone else.”

He has a right to sound as upset as he is. Cale, as well as all the rest of the Avalanche roster and their partners, have been given the cold shoulder ever since Tyson moved, but after almost two weeks of radio silence they had all seemed to give up, all but Cale.

“Look Cale I’m really sorry but I just couldn’t bring myself to be around his friends. Everything reminds me of him.”

“Is that why you’re wearing his jersey right now? To help get him off your mind?”

“Cale–”

The Canadian wouldn’t let you finish what you were gonna say.

“I’m taking you out to eat, I know you’re hungry. Go change.”

Cale always knew how to read you because you were starving. He made his way inside, shutting the door behind him and immediately making his way towards Cleo who was still laying on the couch. He pet her, quickly pulling off the Wild bandana she wore and making a mental note to buy her an Avalanche one.

“I can tell she has missed you. If you were anyone else she would be in my bedroom hiding.” You spoke, walking out of the bathroom is an old hoodie rather than Tyson’s jersey you were wearing just moments prior.

“I missed her too, did Tyson not want her?”

“No, he knows she doesn’t like him, she doesn’t like any men.” You spoke with a chuckle.

“She likes me.”

“That’s because you’re special Cale.”

He blushed as the two of you walked out, not even realizing you forgot your phone on the coffee table in the living room. A text from Tyson lighting up your phone reading, “I miss my girls, when I’m in Denver next can we meet for dinner?”

***

“There is no way that actually happened.” Cale laughed, nearly choking on his coffee. 

He had taken you to Waffle House as that was the only open that sounded somewhat appetizing, you had arrived nearly two hours before, the two of you getting lost in the conversation talking about anything and everything, which was now leading to the senior prank that was pulled last year.

“I swear, they took the tires off of the principal's car and placed them in the trophy display case.” 

“That is so funny, did they get in trouble?”

“Oh yea, they were suspended and weren’t allowed to walk at graduation, but I think it was worth it. It was hilarious.”

Soon the laughter faded out into a comfortable silence.

“We should probably head back, it’s almost 9pm. I’ve got work in the morning.” You said, even though you never wanted this night to end. 

***

Cale walked you up to your front door, claiming he wanted to see Cleo one more time.

“You know you can come see her whenever you want to? I’ll unmute your contact info, I was wrong to try and ignore you.”

“You had your reasons, but yes please do that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You trailed off not knowing what to do, the tension in the air feeling all but friendly. Luckily the sound of your phone ringing cut through it, you quickly shuffled to where you had left your phone hours before. The screen lighting up with the name “Tyson 🤍” you never brought yourself to change his contact name. 

“It’s Tyson, tonight has been very fun. We should do it again soon, just message me whenever you're free.” Cale nodded, a quiet “Goodbye.” leaving his lips as he walked out the door.

You answered the phone, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“Hey Tyson.”

“Where were you?” 

“Tys–”

“No! You haven’t answered me in hours, i know you couldn’t have been sleeping because you keep your ringer one so where were you? Are you okay?”

His last question did not match his angry tone at all.

“I was out with a friend and I left my phone in the apartment. Tyson you have no right to yell at me like that.”

“Y/n I was worried, am I not allowed to be worried about my girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. Tyson, if I have to remind you that we are broken up one more time I don’t think I can play along with this whole “friends” act. I am not yours to worry about anymore.”

“Fine.”

“Tyson please stop messaging me, it is for the best. We both need to move on, our relationship is over and there is nothing we can do to fix it. Agreeing to stay friends was a big mistake.”

“There is something that we can do to fix our relationship, you can come move out here with me. I still love you Y/n and I know you still love me. Leave your job, I found a private school twenty minutes away from the arena that needs teachers.”

“Would you just stop it Tyson! We are over. I'm not leaving my life in Denver, I am done having this conversation with you. Goodbye Tyson, please stop contacting me.”

“Wait no Y/n please–”

You hung up before Tyson could finish his sentence.

***

 The next day Tyson would not stop calling you, during the school day you had to turn your phone completely off because “do not disturb” wasn’t even helping. By the time you arrived back at your apartment you’d had enough.

“Enough Tyson! I told you to leave me alone I’m blocking you–”

“Woah put the claws away, it’s just me.”

Cale.

“Oh I’m sorry Cale, I thought Tyson was calling me again.”

“Is he bothering you? Because I can talk to him for you.”

“No Cale it’s nothing you want to get involved in I promise.”

“Do you wanna meet for a late dinner after my game is over?”

“Yea I’d love to, good luck tonight by the way.”

You could hear his smile over the phone as he suggested you wear one of his jerseys tonight.

“--and put Cleo in that new Avalanche bandana I sent you.”

“Will do Cale, but I should probably go. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodbye Y/n,”

***

The knock on your door pulled you out of your trance, quickly lowering the volume on your speaker as you walked towards the door to answer it.

“Hey Cale, you can come in, just give me a second to change and grab my shoes.” 

“Ok, take your time.” His breathing stopped as he saw you turn around, his name and number branded on your back. He quickly walked towards the couch to take a seat, noting what songs were playing over your speakers so he could play it in the car.

“What artist is this?” He asks as you walk out of your bedroom, still in his jersey, but in jeans instead of the sleep shorts you were wearing when you answered the door.

“Harry Styles, he is one of my favorite singers ever.”

“Oh yea the one from that band, you went to see him in concert last year?”

You found it sweet that he remembered. Tyson had joined you at the concert but couldn’t even bother to learn the name of the artist, who you so lovingly adore. 

“Yea I did, it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to. I’ve been listening to him since he was in One Direction and I just love his music so much. I’ve begun collecting his merch, and I think I’m gonna start collecting his records. I don’t even have a record player though.” You looked up trying to catch your breath, “Sorry I didn’t mean to ramble, I don’t mean to annoy you.” You spoke looking down again, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Cale gently grabbed your chin, making me look up at him, “You don’t need to be sorry, I don’t think you realize how adorable it is when you’re talking about something you love.” 

“Be careful, if someone else heard you say that they might think you’re flirting with me.” You chuckled out.

“Well they would be correct.” Cale paused for a moment “We should go, I don’t know how busy Waffle House is going to be right now.” He finished while walking out your door leaving you standing in your living room too stunned to move.

“Did he actually just say that?”

“Yes I did, can we go now? I’m hungry.”

***

“Is everything ok? You’ve been silent all night.” Cale said. It was true, but he had just dropped a bomb on you.

“Did you mean what you said? That you were flirting with me? Do you actually not find it annoying when I talk? Because if you’re just here to pity me because of Tyson then just leave.” You blurted out, immediately embarrassed by your short rant.

“No Y/n, not at all. Nothing you could do would ever annoy me. Did Tyson ever make you feel that way? Because I will beat him up.”

“Cale, please, stop. Let's just forget about it, I don’t like talking about it.” 

“Ok, but please eat your food before I do. Somehow I’m still very hungry.

***

“Cale, we should probably head back, it’s almost 1am.”

“Oh my goodness I didn’t even realize how late it was getting, I just lose track of time when I’m with you.” Cale spoke while standing up and gathering his things, “-And I don’t mean that in a bad way, I really enjoy spending time with you.” 

“Thank you Cale, I appreciate you.” You said while following his actions. “I don’t think you realize how good it feels to hear those words, especially when the person saying them is being genuine.”

***

Cale knew there was something off about your relationship with Tyson, even before he had moved to Minnesota. The way you responded to compliments and criticisms spoke enough on how poorly Tyson had treated you, he wanted to make that right. He wanted you to accept compliments without arguing, and he wanted you to know that no criticism that was thrown your way would change the way he felt about you. Cale wanted you, he always had ever since the night he met you almost three years ago, the same night you met Tyson.

*May 9th 2019*

The Avalanche decided to celebrate their season coming to an end at a club in downtown Denver. That club just so happened to be where you were working as a bartender, the job you had while in college. 

“We better be making good tips tonight, these guys make like one million dollars a year.”

“Don’t be a bitch and that won’t be an issue.” You spoke laughing at your friend, Callie’s, reaction.

“Put your tits away Y/n.” She fires back while walking away to her side of the bar. You laugh while you finish preparing your side of the bar.

Soon enough it was time for the team to come up to the private floor, you had no idea how they would act. Would they be respectful? Would they be creepy? Either way you need to get those tips, college is expensive. 

“Y/n if you pull your tits out anymore i think you would flash them.” Callie said, fake judging you.

“I need money, and your ass is out Callie.”

“I also need money.” The two of you laughed but were quickly silenced by the sound of footsteps outside the door.

Your coworker led them inside and they all took seats, some at booths and some at the bar. You immediately began taking orders and working on drinks, trying to get everything done as quickly as possible as to have a little down time before the next rush of orders came through. After about 15 minutes the bar had died down and you were able to start talking, more gossiping than anything, with Callie. 

“That blonde with the red cheeks has not stopped staring at you, like not once has he even blinked.” Callie told you, not bothering to be quiet because no one was around, or so you had thought.

“I have also not taken my eyes off of you since I got here.” 

You and Callie quickly turned around to see a boy with curly brown hair.

“I’m Tyson by the way and you are?” Tyson gestured over towards you, making sure you knew who he was talking about. 

“I’m Y/n.” 

“And I’m Callie, not that either of you are acknowledging my existence right now.”

You giggled and apologized about your friend before falling into conversation with Tyson.

“So you aren’t old enough to drink, but you are old enough to be a bartender? How does that make sense.” 

“You have to be 18 to serve alcohol, 21 to drink alcohol. It’s just how this country works, you’re gonna have to get used to it Canada.”  

“I don’t mean to interrupt, well yeah I actually do, but Y/n you have a job to do that isn’t flirting with Tyson here.” Callie chimed in, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

“I am sorry but she is right, I have to get back to work. It was very nice meeting you though.” Tyson gave you a smile before you turned to take orders and make drinks for his teammates.

As you were making a drink someone sat down in the stool in front of you, the blonde Callie pointed out earlier who “hadn’t taken his eyes off you”. 

“Hey can I get you anything?” You asked, setting the whiskey sour down for the man who had ordered it.

“Do you have apple juice?” The blonde asked.

“I believe we do, would you like that with vodka? Or what do you want?” You asked back, a little confused because that wasn’t a question you were asked before.

“No, can I have just apple juice? I’m not old enough to drink and water is boring.” He said avoiding eye contact with you.

“Of course, just give me a second to find it.” You responded while looking around the bar for the bottle of apple juice. Handing the cup to him after you finished pouring it, he began asking about you and why you’re working as a bartender.

“Well I’m actually a student at The University of Denver and I work here for money to pay off my loan debt.” You told him. “I am a few days away from finishing my second year of school, so don’t worry about ordering apple juice, I would also have to order that if I were on the other side of this bar. I’m only 19.” 

“You aren’t allowed to drink alcohol, but you can make and serve alcoholic drinks? How does that make sense?” He asked you, almost baffled at the news you just told him.

“It confused me too Cale–” Another voice cut in, Tyson took the seat next to the boy who you have now been able to place a name on, Cale. “-Hello Y/n, it is nice to see you again. I was worried my teammates would steal you away from me for the rest of the night.” 

“Well they couldn’t even if they tried cause you would just interrupt them anyways.” You chirped at him, making it obvious that he just walked in on a conversation that you were really enjoying. 

“Alright well I was just gonna order another drink, and also was hoping to talk to you some more. Would it be ok if I joined in on you and Cale’s conversation Y/n?” He asked in a tone, knowing what your answer would be. 

“What would you like to drink Tyson?”

***

“Come on boys, they're closing.” A blonde man came up to grab both Cale and Tyson’s shoulders. They quickly nodded their heads towards the guy grinning at you with some of his teeth missing. Cale opened his mouth to say something, but Tyson had beat him to it.

“Can I get your number Y/n? I wanna take you out sometime.” A blush rose to your cheeks, you weren’t blind he was attractive and you would actually be stupid if you didn’t give it to him. So that’s what you did, not noticing the defeated look on Cale’s face. Tyson beat him by asking you out, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be your friend.

*May 2nd, 2022*

The first round of playoffs began tonight and you could tell Cale was nervous, but so were you. Not only for your friend, who so deserved to win the cup, but also at the fact that this was the first Avalanche game you would be attending since you and Tyson broke up as well as the first time you would even be speaking and seeing the other players and partners.

“Why don’t you wear my jersey tonight? I know you aren’t wearing your jacket so you’ll need something to wear.” Cale suggested, walking into your apartment already knowing you were struggling to pick out an outfit without even walking into your room. What he didn’t know was that you had your headphones on so you didn’t hear him come in or speak to you, Cale also didn’t know that you were only dressed in your underwear while rummaging through your closet. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as a crimson color crept up to his cheeks, sure he has seen you in a swimsuit before, but this was just different. He quickly turned around and tried to make his way out of your room unnoticed, tried to. He ran into your bedside table while walking out, causing your lamp to tumble over, and making you jump in reaction. Quickly whipping your head around and saw a very red Cale looking at the blue lace that covered your intimates, rubbing his neck in shame.

“Oh Cale, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” 

He was surprised at your tone, why weren’t you the littlest shocked at him seeing you basically naked, did you want him to see you like that? Were you into him like he was into you? He cut his own thoughts off.

“I’m so sorry, um I’ll just be in the living room waiting.” He spoke before basically running out of your room. You found it adorable how flustered he got, it was just some skin you didn’t really see the big deal.

You quickly got dressed in one of Cale’s jerseys and some black leather pants. Putting on some accessories and your signature perfume before walking into the living room and bending over to put on your booties, catching Cale staring at you once again. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Cale, you always had been ever since the night you had met him. But nothing could ever happen, you were with Tyson, well you used to be. Cale was there for you whenever you needed it, he was everything you wanted in a partner. He was everything Tyson was and more. Maybe you did begin flirting with Cale a bit more noticeably a few weeks after the break up, but could anyone blame you it's Cale fucking Makar. 

“Ready to go?” you asked, turning to face him. He nodded in response quickly getting up, you could finally get a good look at his game day suit and god did he look good. Hiding the crush you had on him was getting harder and harder every moment. 

***

“Y/n! Ugh I have missed you so much!” Mel was quick to greet you once you stepped into the friends and family box. You had no idea how everyone would react to you attending an Avalanche game not as Tyson’s girlfriend, but as Cale’s friend. 

“Hey Mel, sorry I haven’t been in contact–” The captain's wife was quick to shut down your apologies.

“Don’t. I know it couldn’t have been easy to constantly surround yourself with things that remind you of him. I was a little surprised when Cale told us that you guys had been spending all your time together.” 

“Yea he has been a great support system for me, it feels nice to be friends with him again.”

It was known that after your relationship with Tyson had become something more serious, moving in together and getting a cat, that you and Cale had drifted apart from one another. He was your closest friend, you would’ve even considered him your best friend, but Tyson wasn’t a fan of the two of you. He claimed that he didn’t trust Cale because he had ulterior motives and didn’t just want to be your friend. 

“You’re not dating? Oh I’m sorry Gabe mentioned that you and Cale had been going on dates, I just assumed.” Your eyes widened at not only the assumption, but also at the bedazzled jean jacket with Cale’s name and number on it that was brought for you. You just shook your head at Mel’s apologies and took the jacket from her. “Maybe I’ll wear it to the next playoff game.” You told her with a fake smile on your face. Had you and Cale actually been going on dates without even realizing it? Did Cale think you were going on dates and you were the one in the dark about it?

***

You continued to attend all of the playoff games that took place in Denver and by the end of the first round it felt like you had never lost contact with everyone. They were kind enough to never mention Tyson in front of you, knowing it was still a hot topic and you appreciated that a lot more than they could ever know. You had to have Mel and Sydney stop you from texting Tyson, apologizing for the loss but also congratulating him on finishing the season with the Wild.

 With Cale being so busy you haven't been able to hang out with each other, but you’re still texting and calling whenever the both of you are available. Tonight was the first game of the second round and you were trying to figure out what to wear and that damn jean jacket was just staring at you from its spot in your closet.

 “It wouldn’t be horrible to wear it, I mean just because I’m wearing it doesn’t mean we’re together I’m just wearing a jacket, just like how I wear his jersey.” You spoke to yourself, an internal battle happening in your mind as you finally slipped the denim over your shoulders. 

“Do you still have my jean jacket?” A voice that was all too familiar to you spoke from the entryway of your room. Tyson. “You know you should probably stop keeping the front door unlocked, who knows what kind of weirdo could just walk in.”

You slowly turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you looked at the man who you had loved so much. His hair was grown out and he wasn’t clean shaven anymore, he looked different. 

“Tyson, what- um how- what are you doing here?” On any other occasion you would’ve been embarrassed by stumbling over your words but you were too shocked to care, the tears that had been settling in your eyes finally began falling as neither of you spoke, both keeping your eyes on each other scared that if you looked away that they would no longer be there.

His presence shouldn’t bother you this much, you shouldn’t allow him to bother you this much. 

“My season is over, I wanted to come down to support the team. They’re still my friends even if we aren’t on the same roster anymore.” He answered while walking towards you, him just being centimeters away from you by the end of his statement. 

“No, what are you doing here Tyson? Why are you in my apartment?” You ask softly, trying to hide yourself from him. You didn’t want Tyson to see you in such a vulnerable state. 

Tyson reaches up to gently grab your face, his thumbs wiping your tears away as he leans into your lips. As much as you wanted to fight him, and to not let him kiss you, you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the kiss and wrapping my hands around him, managing to bring him closer to you. The kiss quickly deepens as you walk back towards your bed.

“I’ve missed you.” Tyson spoke in between kisses. His hands began roaming your body, but stopping as he touched the jewels that spelt out “MAKAR” on your back.

“I need you to take his name off of your back.” Tyson said, the jealousy was apparent in his voice.

Tyson knew that Cale always had a thing for you, he was horrible at hiding it. Tyson was never the biggest fan of you being friends with Cale, he didn’t trust the younger Canadian knowing that Cale had been in love with you since you met the both of them that night in May, Tyson had been too.

“Tyson, we need to stop this.” you said, pulling away from him. His lips chasing yours before letting out a sigh.

“Why? I am off of work all summer and so are you? Please can we just be together again? Be us again? I miss you so fucking much and I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you by my side. It was horrible after we broke up, I cannot function without you. Please Y/n, at least just consider going on a date with me? I’m in Denver for the next month and a half, I’m staying at a hotel.” Tyson rambled as you considered his words, you were doing horrible as well nothing Cale or any of your other friends could do or say was able to fully close up the hole in your heart that Tyson left you with.

“You can stay here, there is a guest room. No need for you to pay for a hotel room.” You whispered, shocking yourself with the offer. Him staying with you for almost two months would probably be one of the worst mistakes in your life, but you didn’t want him staying in a hotel, you knew how much he hated them.

“Y/n thank you, I hate-” Tyson started. “Staying in hotels. I know.” You finished.

“Can we skip the game please, go get some dinner and talk about everything. I think that is what we need, to just go over everything that happened and how we are feeling.” Tyson suggested to you, a little nervous that you would say no. 

Your heart spoke before your brain could, “Yea I think that would be what’s best for us moving forward.”

***

You quickly changed into a dress and some heels, Tyson changing into a dress shirt and slacks. He had made reservations for the two of you at your favorite Italian place before he had even got to your apartment because he knew you would say yes, you hated him for knowing you so well. You walked out after putting your favorite earrings on, the ones you haven’t worn since the last date you had gone on with Tyson.

“You’re wearing my earrings.” Tyson muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. 

“They’re beautiful Tyson, of course I’m going to wear them. You also put a lot of thought into the gift, they mean a lot to me.” You were fully aware that Cale had gone out and bought your anniversary gift for Tyson because he had no idea what to get you, and Cale had seen you eyeing that pair of earrings every time you went window shopping with him, he even saw the tabs open on your computer once, one of them being the link to the online shop that sold those earrings. They were all you could’ve ever wanted as a gift, and Tyson didn’t even know that. 

“We should get going before we miss our reservations” He said standing up, ending the slight stare down the two of you were having, you wanted him to admit he didn’t get you those earrings but he never would. That was the biggest issue, your relationship was built on lies.

***

“Please be my girlfriend again” 

Tyson didn’t even wait for the hostess who showed you to your table to leave before speaking.

“Tyson–”

“Y/n I have been so miserable since you left me, I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping, my game has been complete shit. Without you I am nothing, I need you back. I fucked up, I know that, but please if you just give me a second chance I will be the loving boyfriend that you deserve. Please Y/n.” He pleaded, tears building up in his eyes. 

“Tyson, can we please just treat this like a normal date and discuss our future in private.” He nodded as you both quickly shoved your heads into the menu, even though you both knew what you would be getting already.

***

Dinner was filled with the two of you catching up, you telling him about the things you have been up to since he moved and him telling you about Minnesota and the team.

“Did you stay close with any of the players or their partners?” Tyson asked after your stories had stopped being shared. 

“No, the only one I talked to and saw on a regular basis was Cale. I kind of shut everyone out except for him after we broke up, but I’ve started to go to games again. Which reminds me I need to inform them that I’m alive and just missing the game tonight.” You said while pulling your phone out to see a few texts already.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Hey! Just wondering if you were dead or not lol.

From: Mel🏒❤️

I’m gonna assume you’re not coming tonight, hope everything is ok. Text me when you can.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Text Cale too. He is worried.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n after the game tonight could you go down to the tunnels with Mel and Syd? I want to talk to you.

From: Makar🥰

Mel just told me you aren’t up in the box with them, are you gonna be late to the game?

From: Makar🥰

Is everything alright Y/n? It isn’t like you to ignore messages.

From: Makar🥰

Text me whenever you see this so I know you’re ok, I’m going out onto the ice now, I hope you’re watching from wherever you are.

You quickly typed a response to Mel’s texts.

To: Mel🏒❤️

Hey I’m alive. Tyson is in town, came by my apartment and now we’re at dinner discussing everything. Tell the girls I’m sorry I couldn’t make it and if Cale asks anything do not mention Tyson please, just tell him I’m sick and that I just needed rest.

From: Mel🏒❤️

Oh shit.

You chuckled lightly at the text before going into your conversation with Cale.

To: Makar🥰

I am so sorry Cale but I woke up super sick this morning and needed some rest, sorry I didn’t text earlier I’ve been sleeping all day. Good job on the game today! Cleo and I were rooting for you the whole time!❤️❤️

You sent the text congratulating him on the game even though it was only the 1st period, he probably wasn’t going to see it until after the game had ended.

“Everything ok?” Your head shot up, having forgotten about the real reason why you were not in attendance at the game the voice of your ex startled you.

“Yea I just had to text Mel quickly, what were we talking about?” You asked, placing your phone in your purse.

“How you just began attending Avalanche games recently.” He answered.

“Oh yea, I felt a bit awkward going after we broke up but Cale convinced me to go for the playoff games. The girls have been super nice about everything. I was scared they would hate me for having cut off our communication with them, but they said they understood why I did it.” You explained while playing with your food, a habit you displayed when you were nervous.

“So how is Cale?” Tyson's question shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did.

“Oh um he is great. He has had an amazing season, hasn’t he been texting you bragging about everything he has accomplished?”  You didn’t know if you should tell Tyson about how close the two of you had become in the two months he has been gone, afraid of his reaction. 

“Well he has blocked my number and all of my socials so the only updates I get on him are through the boys, but they usually just talk about the two of you when I ask about him. They say that the two of you have been going on dates and spend every night together, and that he asked for a playoff jacket to be made for you with his name and number on it. Is there something you’re not telling me Y/n?” 

With Tyson there is no trust, he gets extremely jealous and once he has the thought of you being with someone else he fixates on it and sees the guy as a threat. You would say his only threat is Cale. 

“Tyson, nothing is going on with me and Cale. We’re just friends, if you can’t trust me then why should I bother attempting to rekindle our relationship if you can’t trust me and my best friend.” You spoke, frustration clear in your tone. You could tell that you were making those around you uncomfortable so you proposed that the two of you pay the check and continue your conversation in a more private place, or just somewhere that wasn’t filled with happy couples.

***

“Are you sure nothing happened between you and Cale while I was gone.” Tyson asked for what felt like the 100th time, but it was probably just the third or fourth.

“Yes Tyson, for the last time nothing happened between us and nothing is happening between us right now. But if anything did happen you aren’t allowed to be upset, we are broken up. I can do and see whoever I want and so can you.” You basically yelled at the boy who sat on your couch.

“I don’t want to be with just anyone, I want to be with you Y/n. Am I not making that clear enough because I think I’ve said that plenty of times tonight.” Tyson yelled back. 

“Let's just calm down, I’m gonna go change, you can turn on the tv. Play the game or something.” You told him before turning to walk towards your bedroom. 

Once you’ve entered the room to search for a shirt to wear over your spandex, you saw one of Tyson’s Wild shirts sitting on top of your bed. One of your favorite habits of his, he always left a shirt out for you to change into after a night out. Contemplating whether or not you should put it on or just find another shirt to wear, you decide to just put on Tyson’s shirt thinking you’ve hurt his feelings enough for one night. 

Quickly putting some fuzzy socks on you walk out to the living room, freezing at the sight.

“I think she missed me.” Tyson was cuddled up with Cleo, she was wearing a jersey that had his number on it but the name said “DADDY” you were amazed at how he was able to get it on her as well as wondering where the hell he found a jersey that fits a cat.

“Please tell me you didn’t order a custom jersey for our cat.” You said trying to hide your laughter.

“I did, but don’t worry it's a jersey meant for a baby. I’m not that crazy to order a jersey made for a cat.” He responded, as Cleo went to lay on his chest.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He gave you a fake glare before laughing and patting the spot next to him. “I can tell she misses you, I would find her cuddled up in your old dresser sometimes with some of the clothes you left here.” He smiled at that and situated himself and Cleo so that you could sit next to them. 

“The avalanche game ended, they won, now it’s just playing the highlights.” He whispered to you, your bodies so close that a volume louder would cause a headache. You nodded and focused on the tv, well tried to focus. You and Tyson had broken up 2 months ago, which meant it had been 2 months since you had sex, and god were you frustrated. Sure you had a vibrator, but nothing was gonna beat actual sex, especially sex with Tyson. Thinking about it made it worse, so you shifted on the couch uncomfortably, crossing your legs to try and relieve some of the tension in your body, before looking at the TV, which was showing a compilation of Cale’s three goals, he got a fucking hat trick and you weren’t there to see it. You quickly picked up your phone to send a text to him.

To: Makar🥰

Congratulations on your hat trick tonight!! I cannot believe I missed it, I am so sorry. I’ll be there for your next one though 😁❤️

“What does he want?” Tyson asked, annoyed while looking at the contact in your phone.

“I’m just congratulating him on his hat trick tonight, and apologizing for not being able to attend the game.” You answered with a sigh, leaning over the couch and setting your phone down on the table in front of you. Which gave Tyson a very nice view of your ass. Was it a horrible idea to sleep with your ex while he is trying to win you back, or just in general? Absolutely, but you don't care, you just need to have a release. You stayed bent over, deciding to text Mel just to try and get Tyson a little riled up. 

To: Mel🏒❤️

Girl I know this is a bad idea but I think I’m gonna sleep with Tyson😭 

To: Mel🏒❤️

I haven’t had an orgasm in two months, seriously if he doesn’t fuck me I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Wish me luck!! 

From: Mel🏒❤️

Get that dick babe!! 

From: Mel🏒❤️

But seriously the second he leaves Denver I’m setting you up with someone. This has to be a one time thing, you’re better off without him.

You smiled at the messages before turning your phone on do not disturb and setting it down, missing a message from Cale.

From: Makar🥰

Hey Y/n, I’m coming over to your place. Hope it’s ok because I’m almost there.

From: Makar🥰

I’m bringing soup and tea, I assume you’re asleep so I’ll just let myself  in.

Unaware that Cale was on his way you sat back down on the couch leaning your body onto Tyson’s. You hoped he would’ve picked up on your signals, but he just wrapped his arm around you and did nothing else.

“Tyson how many more signals  am I gonna have to give you until you fuck me.” You whispered in his ear, and that was it. 

His mouth instantly found yours, your tongues fighting for dominance as he grabs your hips to straddle his own. 

Soon the clothes were coming off, Tyson was in just his boxers as you were only in Tyson’s Wild shirt. The marks being left on your neck made the shape of a T, one of Tyson’s favorite things to do during sex, it claimed you as his. He began lifting your shirt up, not all the way, but just enough to be able to latch his mouth onto your nipple. So caught up in the moment, your moans and his grunts caused by your bare core grinding against his clothed one, you didn’t hear your front door unlock and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. You did however hear the sound of soup hitting the floor, you felt it too. You yelped, catching Tyson’s attention whose first instinct was to protect you. He quickly pushed you onto the couch and moved up to cover you, he still didn’t know who had entered your apartment. 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” Cale yelled towards your ex, your eyes widened as you tried to find your shorts, or anything to cover your exposed bottom half.

“I could ask you the same thing Makar.” Tyson asks, getting angrier by the moment. Cale having a key to your apartment, bringing you things thinking you were sick, and being protective over you did not sit well in Tyson’s stomach. You had spent the whole night trying to convince Tyson that nothing was going on between you and Cale and now all that work was out the window. 

“I knew it, I fucking knew there was something going on between you two. Y/n tried to tell me that nothing was happening but I’ve always known you loved her, you never got over her even after you lost her to me.” Tyson spoke venomously.

“Fuck you Tyson, and you Y/n–” Cale pointed at you. “I’m really disappointed in you. After all this time trying to get over him you just fell back into his trap. Was this your plan all along? To string me along and get my hopes up and then break my heart, because if so you accomplished it. Whore.” That's when Tyson swung and tears welled in your eyes. Cale regained his balance as a face of guilt washed over him, but he left before you could say anything to him or he could say anything to you. 

You quickly got up finding your spandex and put them on before running out the front door to chase after Cale. 

“Where are you going? Are you seriously chasing after him? He just called you a whore.” Tyson yelled as you made your way to the hallway.

“He’s my best friend.” you whispered back towards him, not even thinking he had heard it, but Tyson nodded at you as a way to tell you to go after him.

***

Luckily Cale lived in the same building as you so all you had to do was go up the stairwell to get his floor, but he had some leg and speed advantage on you, as well as a head start because you couldn’t get your damn shorts on, so Cale’s door was shut. 

“Cale open the door.” You said while knocking, more like pounding, on the door. “-Please.” You were met with silence as you continued to beg to be let in. Eventually your legs got tired and you began sliding your back down the door, the tears you had been holding back finally slipping free as you lost control of your breathing. 

“Cale, please.” Your voice was barely there, he wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was at the other side of the door. “I’m so sorry.” Even if Cale was on the other side of the door your weeps were enough to make the words coming out of your mouth sound like a foreign language.

You continued to cry until you heard the door to the stairwell open.

“Come on Y/n, we have to go. You need to go to bed.” Tyson tried to coax you into coming back to your apartment but you weren’t having it.

“NO TYSON-” you shouted. “-I fucked up ok. I need to make it right, he is my best friend and I cannot leave or go to sleep until I have talked to him.” Your words grew quieter as a new wave of tears washed over you. 

“Baby…” he trailed off before walking over to you, “Let's go Y/n. He doesn’t wanna talk to you right now, you can try again tomorrow. Just give him some space. Come on love, I’ve got you.” Tyson picked you up bridal style, too tired to care you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into his chest, almost immediately falling asleep. Neither you or Tyson heard Cale’s door open or the faint “Y/n.” that left his lips.

***

“Wait so Cale walked in on you and Tyson doing it and called you a whore? What a fucking dick, why does he think he has the right to just enter your apartment and get upset at what he sees.” Mel exclaimed.

You had asked her to meet you for coffee so you could debrief what had happened the night before.

“Mel, I don’t think you’re focusing on the thing I want you to.” you sighed “he told me that I strung him along and broke his heart, do you think he likes me?” 

“Sweetie, is the sky blue? Cale has liked you ever since the night he met you, that same night you met Tyson.” Mel said, laughing shortly after because of your reaction.

“I need to go, I need to talk to him.” You said rushing out the door.

“Good luck Y/n!” You sent a smile before sprinting to your apartment.

***

Luckily the coffee shop was less than a mile away from your complex so you got there quite quickly. Not wanting to deal with the shitty elevator you took the stairs, quickly regretting that decision by the time you got to the third floor, but nonetheless you still made it to his door in one piece, you just couldn’t breath. You quickly recollected yourself before knocking on Cale’s door. 

“Cale, please open up, I need to talk to you.” You said hoping he could hear the desperation in your voice. He did.

His front door opened and you were met with the sight of your best friend who looked just as horrible as you did, possibly even worse. His eyes were red, his nose crusted, and his face puffy and glistening from tears. You would have laughed if the circumstances were different, but right now his appearance crushed you. You had a staring contest, neither of you moving or speaking, your breathing was even rigged. You broke the silence, “Can I come in?” he nodded in response, fully opening his door for you to walk in.

“Look Cale, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have slept with him, well we actually didn’t have sex last night we were just- nevermind, but still that doesn’t give you the right to call me a whore. That hurt Cale.” You said trying your hardest to get the tears out of your eyes.

“I know I’m sorry, that was way out of line, but you have to look at it through my eyes” Cale paused trying to figure out his next words carefully. “-Y/n, I’m in love with you. I have been for awhile, and seeing you with Tyson was horrible, but seeing you broken because of him was even worse. I really thought you were making progress, you were hanging out with the guys and their partners more, you seemed like you were finally you again and to see you just throw all of that out the window because Tyson showed up on your doorstep unannounced hurts the most. What were you thinking Y/n?”

 “I wasn’t. Ok Cale, I wasn’t thinking. Tyson is back and he really wants to get back together with me and have me move out to Minnesota with him. He really wants me to be his again.”

“Do you want to be his again? Do you want to be anyone’s? Why can’t you just be your own person and not settle, not be ok with being claimed as an object by a guy who doesn’t even realize how good he has it with you? If you do move out there, what about your life in Denver? What about your friendships? What about your job? What about us? What about our relationship?”

“Cale you’ll always be my best friend, I’ll always lo–”

“NO DON’T SAY THAT! I don’t wanna be your best friend, I wanna be your boyfriend, your lover, the guy who is there for you no matter what, the guy who loves you no matter what. I want to be the one who lets you see how wonderful you are, to help you gain back that self confidence you lost to Tyson, I want you to see how much you deserve and I wanna give you that and more Y/n. I wanna marry you, I wanna give you your dream wedding, I know you’ve been planning it since you were young. I want to start a family with you, one boy and a girl. We'll name them those names you’ve had picked out since childhood, Dylan and Jane. I know you want Dylan to be older but you would be happy with twins as well. Y/n I want to give you the life you’ve always wanted, the one that you deserve, Y/n I–” 

Cale was cut off by your lips, you had never even thought of spending the rest of your life with Cale, until now, sure you had thought he was cute and over the past couple of months you had gotten much closer with him, but you never had considered that he could be the one for you, until now.

The kiss was desperate on both sides. Cale had wanted to kiss you since the moment he saw you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, if you chewed mint or fruity gum, it was fruity, he wanted to know how you felt wrapped in his arms, he loved it. Pulling away he chased your lips before sighing to himself and letting his head fall onto your shoulder. You welcomed his embrace by wrapping your arms around his torso, staying like that for a while before he felt wetness on his hair and heard your sniffling.

“Hey, hey are you ok? What’s wrong?” Cale asked gently, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him.

“It’s just, ugh it’s stupid-”

“If it is making you cry it isn’t stupid.” Cale told you affirmatively before motioning you to continue.

“Those things you said to me about my future, well our future, were you just saying that or did you mean it?” You whispered, ducking your head to try and hide from him, hoping that wasn’t all just for show.

“Every word of it.” 

You lifted your head to see Cale smiling softly at you, a blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Was it too much? I didn’t mean to overbear you or anything, you just needed to know how I feel.”

“It was a lot, I’m gonna be honest–” you both let out a chuckle, “but it was amazing. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, ever.” The blush on both of your cheeks were deepening as you began leaning in, letting your lips mold together once again.

***

It was a few hours later that Cale had to leave to go to the rink, time in between you first showing up and him having to leave was spent kissing, talking, baking cookies, and some more kissing. 

“Will you be there tonight?” Cale asked while double checking he had everything in his bag.

“I don’t know, probably not. I’m telling Tyson that we’re officially over and that I’m not moving with him tonight and I already know that conversation isn’t going to go well.” You answered truthfully, not wanting him to get his hopes up too much.

“Ok.” Cale nodded, picking his bag up and heading out the door.

“I’m sorry. Good luck Makar, score a goal for me tonight.” He smiled as he walked out the door. You stayed on his couch a little while longer before heading out the door and walking up to your apartment. 

***

“Tyson?” You shouted as you walked into your front door, “Are you in here?” You were met with silence, so you walked up to the guest room where he was staying and knocked on the door.

“Tyson?” You asked again, this time in a softer voice. You heard the sound of sniffling coming from the room and decided to enter.

“Tyson are you ok? What is wrong?” You asked, finding him curled up into a ball on the bed, tissues surrounding him.

“I’m getting traded. Again.” He weakly stated. 

“Oh Tys…” You didn’t know what to say, what to do. He had just joined the Wild and they’re already having him pack his bags. “-where are they sending you now?” 

“I have no idea, no one has picked me up yet. Why do they want me gone? I just started with them, am I that horrible at hockey?” 

“No Tyson, don’t say that about yourself. This is what happens in sports, players get traded. You can’t let it affect your game, and your life as well, that’s what happened when you went to Minnesota.” You worried he would take your bluntness the wrong way.

“I know that, it just still hurts.” You hummed at his response, not knowing what else to say. 

“Have you spoken to Cale yet? Or is he still ignoring you?” You instantly froze, how were you supposed to tell him that not only were you not moving back with Tyson, thus telling him you will not be getting back together with him, but also tell him that not only had you made up with Cale, you also made out with Cale.

“Yea, I actually just got back from his apartment. This is probably not the best timing but–”

“You’re not getting back together with me?”

“Tyson. I love you, I always will, but our relationship is not healthy. I need to put myself first, and I get how that might be selfish but I cannot put myself in a relationship that has made me feel unworthy of so much. I’m so sorry.” Now it was your turn to tear up.

“Y/n, I understand. I never thought you would actually come back to me. I’m sorry too, that our relationship made you feel like that, that I made you feel like that.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“You belong with Cale, I hope you know that. Obviously I wish that we could be together, but if it's not me it should be Cale. Last night I saw how much it affected you, him being upset with you, and seeing you sitting out there for so long made me realize that not once in our relationship did you fight that hard to make things right with me, I didn’t either. It hurts, but I understand that he means more to you than me, but I love you so much that I wanna see you happy, even if it’s not with me.``

You smiled at him, sitting up and wiping the last of your tears away.

“-but if things don’t end up going well with Cale I’ll always be here.” Tyson added in a jokingly flirting tone causing you to laugh. 

You got up and instantly started getting ready, you were going to the game tonight and you were gonna wear your Makar jacket. 

***

“Oh Y/n you made it!” Mel said enthusiastically when you entered the friends and family box. “How did it go this morning?” She added needing to know all the details.

“Really well…” You trailed off trying to quiet your voice down so those around don’t hear all of your business. “-we actually kissed, like a lot.” 

“YOU GUYS KISSED?” Mel yelled, the opposite of the reaction you were hoping for.

“Shhh Mel come on dude.” You said moving your hands around trying to get her to understand how badly she needed to shut up. “Anyways, we kissed, and he confessed to me and told me all these sweet things like really sweet things that made me cry.” You told her, smiling at the memory of it.

“What kind of sweet things?” Mel asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nothing like that you perv, but maybe I’ll tell you in the future.” You smiled towards your friend before you began paying attention to the game in front of you.

***

The Avalanche ended up winning their game in a shutout, 7-0 and letting them advance into the finals of the Stanley Cup, Cale also got a hat trick tonight. You followed Mel and the other family members towards the dressing rooms to meet up with the players.

You stood there leaned against the wall, nervously playing with your necklace. Gabe had exited the locker room a few minutes earlier and quickly took the attention of Mel, leaving you to your own devices while you wait for Cale, he still didn’t know you were here so you didn’t know how long it would take for him to exit the locker room. 

From: Makar🥰

Hey! Game is over and I just finished up, about to head back to my place. I hope your conversation with Tyson went ok, and I hope I can see you again tonight. Maybe you can go up to my apartment and I’ll meet you there? I’ll pick up some food.

To: Makar🥰

Look up dummy.

Confused, Cale looked up from his phone and met your eyes. His face instantly turned into a smile before he quickly walked over to you and dropped his bags.

“Hey you-” but Cale didn’t let you finish your thought, he grabbed your face and brought his lips down to yours, ignoring the hollering and whistling from the players around him. It wasn’t until Gabe shouted out a “Get a room you two!” Did you guys part from each other.

“You made it. Did you see my goals.” He whispered, a blush coating his cheeks.

“I did, all three of them. Congrats honey.” You whispered back.

“Ugh you’re gonna drive me crazy with that name.” He groaned, his head leaning back.

“Well I don’t have to call you it then, I can just continue to call you Cale.” You teased.

“No no no, please continue to call me that. You’ll get a nickname of your own soon, I just have to find the perfect one. Babe? No, that doesn’t sound natural. Love?”

“Oh I like that one.” You giggled a blush reaching your face.

“Alright love, let's go, I am starving.” Cale said, picking his bags back up off the ground.

“You’re not even gonna acknowledge me wearing your playoff jacket? I’m offended Makar.” You quipped, purposefully walking in front of him so he could see his name and number branded on your back. 

“Oh shit.” He said lowly, obviously flustered at the sight. “You look amazing, like really amazing. My last name looks pretty good on you, wanna take it forever?” He winked as you turned round to face him.

“One thing at a time Makar we aren’t even dating yet.” You said while walking up to his car.

“Well then will you be my girlfriend Y/n?” 

“Of course.”

“Great, now will you marry me?”

“Shut up and drive before I walk home.”

*A/N y’all this is the longest thing i’ve ever written lmao. i hope y’all enjoyed it, i kinda just write things and hope they make sense because planning and proofreading a story is for suckers. but if anything doesn’t actually line up to what happened in real life then oh well it’s a work of fiction. HOPE Y’ALL HAVE A GREAT DAY*

[typical-simplelove]

can i please request the way i used to with Josty? 💚

Thank you for requesting! Requests are now open!

The Way I Used to with Tyson Jost

It was even you he was staring at. It was just some other person with identical hair and frame as you, but it still made Tyson's heart stop. It's been months since you ended things with him, citing his hockey schedule was too much on your life. He understood, but it still pained him. While Buffalo was a relatively big city, it was still one of those cities where people knew people. It was shocking that Tyson hasn't run into you, until today.

Well, technically, he hasn't run into you. It's just someone who looks like you.

Whenever he walks from his apartment to a restaurant, coffee shop, or grocery store, Tyson prays to the universe that he doesn't see you. He begs that it's not you each time he sees someone with a similar frame or hairstyle.

At one of the local parks, Tyson's walking a friend's dog he promised to dogsit, and that's when he sees your look-alike. It's not you at all, Tyson realizes when the not-you turns around and reveals their face. What hits Tyson the most is that this not-you has another man draped across you. This is what starts the train of never-ending thoughts in his mind.

Were you seeing someone else? Were you happy? Was your job going better? Was your jackass boss still your boss or did you finally report him to HR? Are you making any of the recipes you saved on TikTok? Did you finally put together that breakfast/book nook in your kitchen? Were you doing alright?

It's not his right to know. He doesn't deserve to know after what his schedule put you through.

However, when he sees the man kiss the not-you, he's so convinced that you're seeing someone else that more thoughts go through his mind.

Do they hug you and engulf you the way that Tyson used to? Do they know your coffee order and the order depending on which coffee shop you're at? Do they know how to cook your favorite meals? Do they know your habits when going grocery shopping? Do they know just the perfect patterns to soothe you when you're stressed or sad? Do they know what to do when you've had a long day? Do they know to kiss you on that spot where your collarbone meets your shoulder to light your inner fires?

Do they love you like Tyson loved you?

Tyson loved you with his entire being, and while he understands why you left, it still hurts how much you didn't recognize how much he adapted his crazy and hectic schedule to be with you and adjust to help meet your needs.

He doesn't deserve to know if anyone loves you, but he wants to know so badly.

When whoever you're seeing (if you're seeing them), do you ever think of the way Tyson used to do things? Do you ever compare their mac and cheese to Tyson's (superiorly) better mac and cheese? Do you ever compare the smell of their scent in comparison to Tyson's cologne and laundry detergent? Do you ever wish that it was Tyson in place of them?

Tyson doesn't have the right or the prerogative to know, but he so badly wants to know.

Are you loved the way Tyson used to love you?

[ya-pucking-nerd]

it’s always the boy next door - t.jost

A/N: Hi!! It's me! I'm @ilyasorokinn mystery fic writer as a part of @antoineroussel winter fic exchange! I do apologize for posting this so close to the deadline, but I hope you enjoy!!

Warning: alcohol consumption, some minor swearing

Buffalo, New York. Stereotypically one of the coldest cities in the United States. Typically, people visit in the summer, but more so for Niagara Falls. Or they visit in the winter because of the skiing. People don’t generally move to Buffalo, especially after 7 feet of snow had just fallen. Nevertheless, you watched through the peephole in your apartment door as movers entered the apartment across the hall with boxes of belongings.

You texted all your friends and received responses similar to the ones you were thinking of yourself. 

“Who moves to Buffalo in the middle of November?” “Do you think they know about the snow?” “Why now? People don’t usually get job transfers until after the new year.” 

Dismissing all your friends, you thought it might be nice to make a meal for your new neighbor. Moving is hard work; the last thing people feel like doing after moving into a new apartment is making dinner. So, you decided on a safe lasagna. When it cooled down, you grabbed your keys and brought it over.

After knocking, you heard a crash and a “Shit!” You had to bite on your bottom lip to hush yourself. The laughter soon died in your throat as the front door opened, revealing your new neighbor.

“Tyson?!” you exclaimed, probably annoying your neighbors. “Oh my god! Why are you here?”

“Y/N.” Tyson looked shocked. He looked nearly the same as the day he left you.

**Flashback**

You and Tyson were both 18, just graduated from high school. Tyson was ready to begin training and playing for North Dakota. His dream of becoming an NHL hockey player was so close to coming true. On the other hand, you had your sights set on the University of Toronto. Their business program was one of the top programs in Canada. It broke your heart to leave Tyson. 

In the two weeks you had left with Tyson, you spent just about every minute with him. You took his parent’s boat out on the lake. You slipped a case of beer past your parents and drank with all your friends. And he kissed you on the last day, at the “goodbye forever Tyson” bonfire. He was your first kiss. That kind of stuff made an impression. 

And then, he left. The texts were constant, detailing his day and how much he missed you and home. And then, they became less frequent. And then they stopped. Except for the odd “happy birthday” text, you and Tyson never communicated. You blamed yourself for becoming so attached. After all, you were half drunk, feeling a range of emotions because Tyson was leaving. It probably didn’t mean anything to him, even though it meant the world to you.

**End Flashback**

Tyson was still standing in front of you, mouth open.

“Are you going to invite me in? The lasagna’s getting hot.” you joked. He nodded his head, still in disbelief. 

Tyson’s apartment was beautiful. Your apartment view was a nice pretty brick wall, but his view was the skyline of Buffalo. He had all modern appliances, a huge living area, and what you assumed was a giant bedroom. You were so busy admiring the view that you didn’t notice Tyson staring at you. 

“Tys. This place is amazing!”

He scratched the back of his head, finally looking around, saying, “Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess? Tyson, my view is a brick wall.” You hoped Tyson got the hint that you wanted to spend some time in his apartment. With him. 

He laughed, then opened the lasagna. “Y/N, this is a lot of lasagna for one person. How much do you think I eat?” 

“Tys, you can just save some for leftovers.” You said quickly, forgetting that he had moved in that day. “Y/N, I don’t have a fridge yet!” He laughed. He pointed to the fridge-sized space between the cabinets. You hadn’t had the chance to look at his kitchen. “It’s not getting delivered until Tuesday.” 

“Wait, Tyson. Why are you here? Did you get traded?” 

“Minnesota put me on waivers. Crazy thing is they didn’t even tell me until it happened. I’m just glad I was picked up. Would’ve been embarrassing, eh?” He shrugged his shoulders. Instantly, you knew it was a sore subject for him, understandably so.

“Well, it’s getting kind of late, Tys. But I’m glad I came over. I missed you. Maybe whenever you’re free next, I can show you around?” You picked at the ends of your shirt, nervous that Tyson caught the way your voice strained when you said, “I missed you.” 

“I’m free on Thursday night.” He was smiling. “My first home game is Friday, too. Do you think you could come? You can even bring some friends. I’ll get you seats. I just…” he trailed off.

“Tys, of course I want to come. I have two friends. Would you mind if I invited them? I’d love for you to meet them.” You replied, filling in the space. You assumed he wanted to say he wanted someone familiar cheering him on in his first game for his new team.

Blushing, Tyson nodded his head. He pulled out his phone and handed it to you. “I got a new number when I moved here. I’ll text you the tickets for you and two friends. And, then, after the game, you guys can meet me in the tunnel.” You typed in your number and gave it back before engulfing Tyson in a hug. “Thanks, Tys. I have work in the morning, but I’ll give you a tour of the city Thursday night.” 

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Tyson Jost was your new neighbor. The Tyson Jost that you kissed when you were 18. You must have had the worst luck, running into the guy who broke your heart even though it was never technically his to break. Or maybe it was the best luck. 

~~ Thursday evening came. You did have a meeting but slid it to a remote Friday morning meeting. While you worried that you were turning back into your 18-year-old self with a massive schoolgirl crush on your best friend, you swallowed your feelings. All you wanted was a nice night out. You haven’t seen some of the attractions you planned to show Tyson tonight. You only knew of them. 

It was cold in Buffalo, a whole 8°F. You were bundled in all your warmest winter clothes waiting in the lobby of your apartment complex for Tyson. He met you on time, and you left the complex chatting about your week since you last saw each other.

You found your car in the lot, and you half-expected Tyson to laugh at your silly old car. The buttons stopped working to unlock your car, so you had to use the key to open it. It smelled a little musty from the old man you bought it from. The maximum speed on the darn thing was about 50 miles per hour. But you loved it more than anything because it was your first adult purchase without your parents’ help.

But Tyson didn’t laugh. He smiled when you told him stories about your car. And he tapped the dashboard and said, “Good job” when you parked in a parking lot of your first tourist destination—Canalside in downtown Buffalo.

You told Tyson that before you became so busy with work, you used to take your daily jogs here. It was beautiful in summer but even prettier in the fall as the leaves turned orange and red. 

Next up, you walked to the Liberty Building. The statues on top of the building were lit up, which made them sparkle if you looked at them just right. 

As you walked through the streets of Buffalo, you started shivering. Tyson grabbed your hands. “Y/N! Your hands are freezing.” And with that, he took both hands and cupped them with his larger ones, blowing his warm breath on your hands. He closed his hands around yours for a few seconds while gazing into your eyes. At that point, you were so close to just smashing your lips together, but you knew you couldn’t. 

He didn’t deserve that. His ex-best friend comes onto him two days after he moves to a brand new city with brand new teammates and brand-new expectations. No. You couldn’t do that to Tyson.

You walked and talked for about an hour. You were beyond freezing, even with Tyson holding your hand in his. You unlocked your car. The drive back to your apartment complex was pretty quiet. Tyson was fidgeting with his hands. 

“Y/N?” His voice was low, almost like a whisper. “I have a question, and you can totally say no. I would understand.”

“What’s up?”

“The Sabres are having a holiday party next Saturday. Would you come with me? I just want to make a good impression. I know we haven’t really been close, but I could use a friend. And I can introduce you to the guys tomorrow night at the game. Then, it won’t be so awkward.” 

You nodded your head, thinking about the offer. “I can. Don’t you think it’ll be weird, though? Did you tell the team you’re bringing someone?”

“I didn’t tell them. I was hoping I could tell them you’re my girlfriend. I know it’ll be weird, but I really want to make a good impression. Investors will be there and love seeing guys have good girlfriends.” 

You tossed the thought around and found yourself thinking back to that summer he kissed you. If you pretended to be his girlfriend, you would, at minimum, receive a forehead kiss. The deal sounded good to your 18-year-old still-had-a-crush-on-Tyson self. You couldn’t turn this down, even if it was fake.

You nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ll go with you and be your fake girlfriend, Tyson.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot, and if you ever have an event and need a date, I’ll be there. Pinky swear.” He held up his pinky, and you took your hand off the wheel to lock your pinky fingers together. 

~

Friday night was here. Lexi and Marco, the two friends you invited with you, met right after work so you could all drive together to KeyBank Center. They spent the whole trip teasing you about your new neighbor. You understood, but at the same time, you knew that the chances Tyson liked you were slim to none. 

In his first game as a Sabre, Tyson got in a scrum. It was nearly a fight if the refs hadn’t interfered. He kept smirking on the bench and chewing on that damn mouthguard. He picked up the habit in high school, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

Your emotions were out of control. You were proud of Tyson for showing his loyalty to his new team, but you hated when he got in fights. You always wished that hockey would be a no-contact sport. 

You, Lexi, and Marco flashed your shiny passes to the security guard, and he let you down towards the waiting area for friends and family. You paced around, seeing a few women and children, most likely the wives of the Buffalo Sabres. They seemed to all be in a little bubble like you were peering into something you would never quite get to be a part of. 

Tyson had to do media. Of course, he did. He got in a scrum in his first game. The media was going to eat him up. The newest darling of the Buffalo Sabres. This meant that it took a little longer for him to find you. Most of the men had come out of the locker room, met with their significant others, and left. 

When he finally came out, he was sweaty but had the largest smile. He beelined straight for you and gave you the biggest hug you’ve ever been given. Tyson dropped his bag, wrapped his arms around your waist, and lifted you up. He breathed deeply and simply wouldn’t let go. Lexi and Marco were sharing knowing looks, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. 

“Wanna go home?” Tyson mumbled into your shoulder. You nodded but looked back at Lexi and Marco. They mouthed, “Go!” You mouthed back, “Thank you,” before going with Tyson when he suddenly grabbed your hand. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you suddenly felt a blush across your cheeks. Using your other hand, you untucked some of your hair from your ear in an effort to conceal the blush. “In case someone’s in the parking lot,” Tyson explained after he cleared his throat. 

He dropped your hand once you got to his car. You felt sad but then had to remind yourself that this whole thing was fake. Everything was fake. The drive home was silent, but neither you nor Tyson filled the silence. You were falling back into that comfort of two best friends. You knew you had a crush on Tyson, but this fake dating thing was going to mess with your head. Here you were, blurring the line between friend and boyfriend, but Tyson didn’t even seem fazed. 

That night, you went to sleep so incredibly confused. 

~~

The rest of the week went by quickly. Tyson had a quick trip to Boston and down to the Rangers but then came back up Thursday night. Friday was an odd day off. The guys had gone to TopGolf in the morning. You were at work and then had to go pick up your dress. It was a long navy blue dress with rhinestones lining the small slit against your right knee. You were planning on wearing some silver jewelry. 

Tyson knocked on your door right as you put your left heel on. You hobbled to the door. It would be a painful night in these shoes, but you would do anything for Tyson. 

When you answered the door, Tyson was left speechless, running his eyes over you. 

“You look good – I mean incredible. You look incredible, Y/N. Sorry, just forgot what words were.” He looked great in a light grey suit with a navy blue dress shirt to match your dress. 

“You look great, too, Tyson.” You gave him a hug, grabbed your clutch, and walked out with him. He grabbed your hand on the way out. 

The event went well. You mostly talked with the women of the Buffalo Sabres, or as they called themselves, the Lady Buffs. 

Tyson was as sweet as could be. He was always around, asking if you needed a refill or just keeping his arm around your waist. You got pictures together with people that asked, and he told everyone you were his girlfriend. He was the perfect fake boyfriend.

But, of course, all good things must come to an end. You left the event as the donors and important executives of the Buffalo Sabres began leaving. You wanted to make an impression and not leave early like a few younger players did. You knew Tyson wanted to show how serious he was about Buffalo, and you wanted to play the role of Tyson’s girlfriend perfectly. Maybe psychologically, it would make him want to keep dating. 

You and Tyson held hands the whole way to your apartments. He noticed you didn’t have a jacket to keep you warm, so he draped his suit jacket over your shoulders. He really was the best fake boyfriend. Tyson stopped you before you could keep going back to your apartment. 

��Y/N, do you want to come to mine? I just wanna wind down, and it’s easier with a friend. I can get you a glass of wine if you want.”

You smiled and nodded your head. He opened the door for you. The apartment was slightly more disheveled than when you had seen it last. He had been busy decorating and purchasing furniture.

You shook off your shoes and Tyson’s suit jacket, then followed Tyson further inside. You were lost in thought. You were trying so hard to push off the thoughts that this felt so natural it could have been real. But it was all fake. Tyson made it explicitly clear. He wanted to wind down with a friend. 

He led you to his bedroom and sifted through his drawers. He gave you a pair of old Avalanche sweatpants and a North Dakota sweatshirt. 

“You can take the bathroom,” he said softly. You missed the way he watched your form walk into the ensuite bathroom.

When you walked back out of the bathroom, Tyson was gone. You found him, shirtless, in the kitchen holding two bottles. You were still reeling from all the feelings you’d felt throughout the night. 

“Red or white?” His voice interrupted your thoughts. “Red,” you answered back. He nodded his head and poured you a glass. You grabbed the glass while he kept the bottle in his hand and grabbed a beer with his other. He nodded towards the couch. He grabbed the remote, opened Netflix, and put on a random show that neither of you was particularly interested in.  

You fell asleep on his couch that night but woke up in Tyson’s guest bedroom with a blanket and a hangover. But there was a water bottle and a bottle of Advil on the nightstand next to your fully charged phone. He was so thoughtful. But the gig was up. Why was he still performing boyfriend duties? 

You slipped out of the guest room and met the smell of bacon. Tyson’s head popped around the corner. He was smiling and listening to music through headphones.

“I didn’t want to wake you with my loud music. How do you like your eggs?” His head bobbed to the beat of whatever song he had going on.

“Sunny side up, please, Tys. Thanks. You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“Y/N, you had at least three glasses at the party and one when we got home. Don’t even tell me your head isn’t pounding so hard you’re leaning forward at a 45-degree angle.” he laughed. 

After breakfast, you went home. You were still wearing Tyson’s clothes, and he didn’t stop you from walking out the door. Everything just felt so confusing. You decided taking a nap would temporarily ease all of your worries.

~~

It was pretty easy to avoid Tyson after the Sabres’ party. He had an 11-day road trip that wouldn’t bring him back to Buffalo until December 23rd. It was easy to text him, “Busy with work stuff!” because you didn’t have to look at his face. You were an absolute sucker for him.

Tyson texted you on Christmas Eve.

Tyson: You’re ignoring me :( Come hang out with me.

Y/N: Am not. Was busy. You come here. Your place doesn’t have any Christmas decorations :p

Tyson: On my way!

You turned on Christmas music and waited for Tyson to burst through in Tyson fashion. Sure enough, he opened your door two minutes after you sent the text.

“Y/N, it’s really not safe to leave your door unlocked. Someone could steal you.” It’s a shame he didn’t know he had already stolen your heart.  

You handed him a mug of hot chocolate to shut him up for now.

“Why didn’t you go home for Christmas, Tyson?” 

“Didn’t work out. And no one really wants to visit me here in Buffalo. Besides, who would you spend Christmas with, then? Who would you watch all your movies with you? And how would you get any presents?” He knew those were your favorite parts. And gosh darn it, it felt right to spend a Christmas with Tyson even though your fake dating façade was done with. 

You huffed and grabbed the remote and turned on your favorite Christmas movie. Tyson grabbed your legs, swinging them into his lap. He began to rub small circles on your ankle, leaving you unable to focus on the movie. 

The night carried on, several more mugs of hot chocolate drank, and a few shots of peppermint schnapps snuck in, too, but you always ended up with your legs on Tyson’s lap. 

You ended up falling asleep again. This time, you woke up cuddled with Tyson. You were both positioned in a sitting-upright position, but your head was on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your legs were tangled together. Your head was spinning once again. How did you end up like this?

You didn’t want to wake Tyson up. It was Christmas, after all. You let him sleep for about thirty more minutes before gently lifting his arm off your body.

His half-asleep subconscious felt this and pulled you closer to him. “Not yet,” he grumbled. He nuzzled his face into your hair and sighed deeply. “Let me just pretend this is real for a little longer.” 

His words shocked you. You bolted straight up. He realized what he had said and took a deep breath.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N. Also, I’minlovewithyouandIwasjusttooafraidtotellyou.” Your eyes got even wider if that was even possible. “I’ve probably been in love with you for a while. I don’t know. You make me feel happy and safe. And that’s like girlfriend feelings. And I like it. And I like you a lot more than being my friend. I know I’ve only been around for a few weeks, so there’s no obligation for you to return my feelings. Would you wanna give it a shot, though?” 

Your answer? Smashing your lips to his. It was just like the movies—fireworks in your belly and warmth spreading over your skin. Tyson grabbed your head and pulled you closer, only allowing you to separate when you were begging for air.

“That’s my answer then, eh?” You playfully whacked him with a throw pillow. 

“Shut up,” you grumbled before leaning in again.

“Wait, hold on! I gotta get something!” He left the apartment and returned with a wrapped box and a card.

“Tys! I didn’t think we were getting each other something! I feel so awful!”

“Just read it, Y/N.” He looked absolutely giddy at the thought.

The card read: Dear Y/N, I’m so glad that I found you here in Buffalo. I thought that I would never see you again after that summer before I left. You’re truly a blessing to have in my life. You keep me sane, and I don’t think I would’ve handled the move to Buffalo without you. I appreciate you beyond words can explain. Thanks for spending Christmas with me. Love, Tyson.

Tears welled up in your eyes. Before you could even speak, Tyson handed you a tissue. And then the box. You carefully opened it. It was a little robot?

“There’s two robots. And you can draw on their bellies. And what I draw, you’ll see on your screen until you decide to draw, and then I’ll see it on my screen. No matter where we are. Like if I’m on a road trip. I thought it would be nice.” 

It was the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received. You hugged him tightly, so glad you were allowed to do it for as long as you pleased. You kissed his nose in appreciation before tackling him into your couch for some Christmas morning cuddles. 

~~ The end <3 

I really do hope you enjoyed!!

Tagging some extra moots who might enjoy: @jostystyles @2manytabsopen @fallinallincurls @slapshot-to-the-heart​ @typical-simplelove​

[harlowhockeystick]

labyrinth with tyson jost for your blurbs.. it’s just so him <3

meet me at midnight | contains: n/a

short one!

there were only a few reasons why you were always hesitant to visit back home in abbottsford. the weather just didn't compare to where you had moved to, all of your friends had moved away from their once hometown, and every time you seemed to be home, tyson jost was too.

there wasn't anything wrong with tyson, actually. he was great, one of the best things that came from your hometown. one of the greater memories. but he was also a reason why you left. he was your high school sweetheart, he was your first love and you swore one day that he would be your only love.

but fate had other things planned. he chose hockey over you, and it was something that you were preparing yourself for. it was obvious, he was one of those rare talents that couldn't be wasted. he took to the nhl and never looked back.

but now you're home for christmas break and word has it that tyson jost is too. it was your mission over these next few days to avoid him as much as possible, but you knew that it was going to be quite hard since you lived in the neighborhoods and that your families frequented the same stores.

so it was only a matter of time before you ran into each other. and that you did. at the grocery store, late at night, right in front of the cereal. he talked you up just like he knew how, catching up with you and seeing where you were in life. he asked about your dog, your job, where you lived and how you liked it.

that was always one thing you liked about tyson, he always asked about others before he talked about himself. sure, he could talk up a storm about himself, but he liked to ask about others first.

it was like you were seventeen again, staring up into those honey eyes. you felt your knees buckle a couple times as you leaned against your cart, your lips quiver and your hands get clammy. he still had that same effect on you.

"hey, what are you doing after christmas?" tyson asked you before he had to leave. "you're not leaving right after, are you?"

"no, no i'm leaving on the thirtieth. why?"

he cleared his throat, "well i'd like to take you to coffee, if you want. get more into a conversation there than we can here of course." tyson gave you a warm smile which could make any person melt.

"yeah, yeah i'd like that. just text me when, if you still have my number." tyson checked to make sure that he still had your information before walking off. you said your goodbyes and you continued shopping, grabbing a few last minute items for your mom for christmas dinner.

it was right there, in front of the chex mix when you realized that he still had the same charming and witty effect on you. it made you smile inside, but also nervous. you didn't want to fall in love with him and end up just having to leave him all over again.

you'd go through with the coffee date, but you were going to try your absolute hardest to not fall in love. you didn't want to go through another four to five more years wondering if you had made the wrong decision or not.

[mendeshoney]

Basorexia with any guy of your choosing.

"basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss" with tyson jost

You were pretty certain you'd never wanted to kiss someone this badly in your entire life.

Add to it that Tyson's basically saving your life, is doing this favor for you specifically, and it makes you want to kiss him the way Kirsten Dunst kissed Tobey Maguire in the first Spiderman movie - passionately, with just enough tongue that it makes all the stuffy and uptight people sitting around you more than mildly uncomfortable.

Because he didn't have to say yes, didn't have to be the absolute perfect fucking human he was and agree to pretend to be your boyfriend so you could show up at your ex's wedding and drive it home to the obnoxious fucker and his family that unfortunately were still very close with your own family that you were doing just fine, thanks.

And of course Tyson's perfect at it. Is nothing but adoring, doting, and attentive, keeping an arm around you, his hand in yours, staying pressed up against you as much as possible, never failing to press kisses to your cheek, your shoulder, your forehead, the back of your hand when he raised it to his lips before making you do a little twirl in front of him, showing off your dress.

He could give lectures on Boyfriend 101, teach a masterclass in how to be a gentleman. He was even impressing your sister, who knew it was a ruse, but kept her mouth shut because even she loved the way your ex's nostrils flared in anger every time he looked at you and saw Tyson plastered to your side, regardless of whether the dickbag ex was dancing with his new bride or not.

You could fucking kiss him for it all. You wanted to kiss him, so badly it fucking hurt. You wanted to kiss him for you, for him, didn't care who was watching or if this was supposed to be fake.

"You sure he's pretending?" Your sister murmurs lowly to you from your left, both of your eyes on Tyson as he sits to your right, chatting casually with your parents who are sitting to his right. "He seems like he's pretty much your boyfriend to me."

"Stop it," you chastise, hitting her on the knee. "He's just being nice. Besides, you would do it too if you were promised that someone else would do your laundry for you for the next three months."

Your sister snorts. "That's it? That's all it took to convince him?"

"Yeah, pretty much," you murmur, though you wouldn't admit to her that even with the promise, it still took you a couple of minutes of begging.

While you could've begged by sucking his cock, you weren't there (yet), you were just friends, and he accepted the laundry offer without much further thought.

For the rest of the night, Tyson had continued to be the perfect Prince Charming. It even had someone on the bride's side telling you "You're so lucky to have someone like him!"

Oh believe me sweetheart, I know, is what you had said back, but you meant it with everything in you.

When you finally left, you and Tyson dismissing yourselves from the ballroom and heading upstairs to your hotel room for the night, he still held your hand in his, swinging it between the two of you as he hummed one of the slow songs that had played earlier to himself.

He escorted you into the elevator with a hand on your back, and once the doors closed, you could feel your heart pounding so hard inside of your chest you were surprised the metal death trap didn't shake beneath you with its force.

You'd shared a room with Tyson before, even a bed. This would be nothing different. If you managed to keep your hands and lips to yourself, it would be nothing different.

"Why are you all the way over there?" Tyson muttered after he pressed the button for your floor, gesturing at you with his chin. He leaned against one wall and you on the other, and he frowned. "Come closer."

"You don't have to pretend anymore, it's just us." You say, walking over to him anyway.

"So I don't have to pretend like I haven't noticed you making eyes at me all night?" He says with a smirk, catching your arm and pulling you toward him.

Your heart skips inside of you and you brace yourself with a hand on his chest, looking at him skeptically. "What do you mean, Tys?"

"Oh don't play coy now sweetheart," he murmurs, bending his head towards you, brushing his nose against yours. "I know you want to kiss me."

You gasp a little when he leans in, his lips brushing over yours a little, a laugh leaving his lips. "Tys, I-"

"It's okay," he says. "It's okay. I've got you."

And then he's leaning in, sliding his lips over yours, and it feels so smooth, so good, so right, that you surge up, rising up on your toes and pressing your lips against his more firmly, cupping his jaw in your hands as his hands wind around your waist, settling just in the small of your back, palms pressing into you and gathering you closer against him.

Your hands move as he does, spinning you around and pressing you against the wall of the elevator so he can grind his body against you as your hands dive into his hair, nails scratching over his scalp in a way that has him groaning into your mouth.

Just as his hands descend to grab at the hem of your dress, the elevator dings, and though the noise is quiet, it's loud enough to snap you both back into reality and have you jumping apart, Tyson's lips leaving yours with a soft "pop."

When you both look toward the open doors, you laugh when you find absolutely no one at all standing there, and Tyson laughs too.

Since you are on your floor though, Tyson ushers you both out of the elevator, but before you can get very far, he's yanking you back to him, kissing you again, this time softer, chaste.

"Is it what you wanted?" He asks against your mouth.

You nod, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth and tugging a little, then releasing it, offering him a cheshire smile when his eyes narrow at you. "Everything and then some."

"Good," he murmurs, thumb running over your sides. "Now, how about we go back to the room and do it a little more?"

[laurenairay]

Josty loves how you don't cover up his marks from nightly fun and gently kisses them

Ooooh okay I see you, I feel this, I can get behind the idea of Tyson Jost and leaving marks on you!

Josty doesn’t necessarily come across as the possessive type. Definitely more of a happy go lucky puppy dog type – but then he has these moments of ‘oh yes you’re mine’ and there he goes.

The marks. The marks. I feel like he would start with little lovebites, maybe on your thighs, places that people can’t see. Just little reminders for him to be like ‘oh yes I was here’.

But as he grows more and more confident, especially when he notices that you don’t hate them, he would for sure start getting a bit riskier with them. Maybe your hips, your ribs, your shoulders.

And the more he sees them, the more they drive him wild. Not necessarily possessive, because he has the upmost trust in the security of your relationship, but there’s something a little feral about putting little claims on you that no-one else gets to.

Because you’re his, and he’s yours, and he loves it.

(And when you finally feel confident enough to leave your marks on him? He’s a goner.)

[senditcolton]

You had to know this was coming. Cause. Duh.

Tyson and Maddie. Anything your heart desires here that you feel like sharing. Preferably not sad.

xx 🫶🏻💜

Hope It Never Ends

a/n: I love you 💜 anon for always reminding me how much I love these two. This is a little flashback moment to Tys and Maddie's past, back when they were teenagers in Kelowna. Back when things were simple but perhaps the beginning of something more...

Word Count: 2k Warnings: none that I can think of!

Sacred: (adjective) regarded with reverence. Synonyms include cherished, divine, revered.

There weren’t a lot of things that Madeleine Murphy considered powerful and important enough to consider sacred – except one tradition.

Summer evenings when Tyson and she would climb out of her bedroom window onto the roof, sitting on an old blanket, playing twenty-questions, and staring at the sunset.

Even though Madeleine always prided herself on her wordplay (she wanted to be a librarian after all), perhaps tradition wasn’t the correct term. There was never a specific time or date that this ritual happened. It was just something that they had been doing since they were 13, shortly after they met and realized that they were bound to be more than just schoolmates.

Madeleine showed him her discovery of how to remove the window screen, allowing her roof access the summer after they first met. Looking back, she did it because she wanted Tyson to think she was cool – what better way to get an adolescent boy’s attention than by doing something that you probably shouldn’t be doing? It worked and soon that was their go-to spot whenever they hung out.

The twenty-questions, however, was Tyson’s idea. It was a way to get to know each other but as a game instead of an interrogation. At first, all the questions were surface level: what’s your favorite color, what’s the best holiday, what’s the coolest thing you own? But eventually, both the location and the questions became deeper and more meaningful as time went on.

The roof of Madeleine’s childhood home became an oasis, somewhere they could sit and be alone and share without the pressure of parents or friends or teachers or coaches listening and potentially influencing their answers. It was a place of trust and truth.

Those moments with him became sacred to Maddie.

And this one, right now, she might soon consider to be the most sacred of them all. Because Tyson was leaving.

It wasn’t for another year, something she kept reminding herself when that fact popped into her head and took all sense of calm from her. He had committed to playing hockey in North Dakota starting in the 2016-17 season. This was still the summer of 2015. Tyson would stay here in the small town they shared together for another twelve months. Madeleine would still be able to sit with him on the roof for maybe another summer.

But there was an ache in her heart that told her this might be last.

“Oh, I got one,” Tyson’s voice dances on the summer breeze, pulling Maddie from her thoughts and back to the present moment, something she should’ve been focusing on anyway. “What’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?”

It’s almost immediate, the image that pops in her mind and she can’t stop the laugh and shake of her head as she considers telling him the answer.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she sighs, her blue eyes bright as she looks over to him.

“I already think you’re crazy so what’s a little more weirdness?” Tyson gently teases, his easy joy relaxing her like it always did.

“Okay, fine,” she sighs, in part defeat and part disbelief that she was going to tell him this. “When I was six, I had a nightmare that I was being chased through the city streets by a giant wheel of cheese.”

“A wheel of cheese? Like a monster that looked like a wheel of cheese?”

“Nope, just a regular wheel of cheese that you’d see in a grocery store. And the way I escaped this wheel of cheese was by standing right where a triangle slice of it was cut out of it, so when it rolled over me, I was completely unharmed.”

If Tyson was keeping a serious poker face before, it crumbled at Madeleine’s explanation, his sputtering laughter making her cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Wow, Maddie, that’s really terrifying.”

“I was six, okay!” she rebuts, her outrage ringing false as her own laughter paints the words. “And I think being chased is a very reasonable nightmare to have.”

“Yeah, but once you throw cheese into that situation, you’ve lost me completely.”

“You asked for weirdest dream not most realistic. What about you, Jost?”

“I don’t remember any of my dreams,” Tyson quips, that stupidly cocky smirk appearing on his face making Maddie scoff.

“What a cop out. Here I am, bearing my soul to you and you hit me with an I don’t know,” Madeleine says, her voice ladened with exaggeration.

“I can at least tell you that last summer, my mom tried to wake me up to go to the store with her or something and I said in my sleep – and I quote – but I don’t want to put up the Christmas lights,” Tyson replies, his own voice going into the grumbling whine as he relays his sleep-talking.

There is no stopping the laughter that falls from Maddie, the image perfectly clear to her as she had heard him mumble in his sleep multiple times during their previous sleepovers. Tyson just laughs with her before continuing.

“Like, it’s the middle of summer, Christmas is far away, I think you’re safe, bud.”

“You said no to your mom though? Impressive.”

“I didn’t say no, I just said I didn’t want to do it. There’s a difference, Maddie.”

Madeleine just hums a yeah sure sound, staring back out at the sun slowly sinking down, turning the skies a beautiful cotton candy pink.

These were the moments that Maddie would cherish forever; she thinks. No matter what happened, she would remember the evenings spent on her roof, her and her best friend’s laughter dancing and mingling in the air. But the knowledge of the possible ending hits her again, like a tidal wave crashing on her.

She would remember this forever but part of her didn’t want it to become just a memory. She wanted to be doing this with Tyson when they were in their twenties, in their thirties, up till the point that they couldn’t climb out of her bedroom window. The idea of a time without Tyson by her side was terrifying.

“What scares you most about the future?” she asks, her own racing thoughts forcing the question out of her mouth before she could stop to think it over.

Her blue eyes flit over to Tyson, the weight of her question fully registering, the smile disappearing from his mouth as his own gaze moves to look at the sunset. She can practically see the wheels turning in his head, can see him chewing over the possible answers that he could give her. Madeleine just keeps her attention on him, watching as Tyson’s shoulders raise in a sigh, his legs bending as he pulls his knees to his chest. Her heart tries not to ache at the sight of him looking so much like a little kid.

“I’m scared that I’m not going to be good enough,” he whispers.

Maddie can feel the honesty in his words and the genuine fear behind them. She doesn’t speak, just lets the silence linger, letting Tyson make the next decision; whether to deflect the question back to her or to elaborate. He chooses the latter.

“I feel like I’ve given so much of my life to this dream of playing hockey and I want it so badly but what if I never get there.”

“To the NHL?”

“Yeah, or what if I do but at some point, people decide they don’t want me anymore. I get traded or sent down to the minors or something else. I think that scares me more then never getting there. That there would be a moment, after all this hard work, where I’d have to accept that it’s not going to work out and I’ll have to give it all up.”

There isn’t really anything to say except false promises, promises that Madeleine knows she can’t keep. She couldn’t see the future, couldn’t tell Tyson that he would make it and that he wouldn’t have to give up playing hockey until he decided it was time. So, she just lets his words linger and keeps her eyes fixed on him, staring at his profile, memorizing the way his hair falls, the way he looks with his chin resting on his knees. It is a moment longer before Tyson sighs again, giving a small shake of his head, his body relaxing and stretching back out into its casual position before he looks back at her.

“Your turn.”

“I’m scared of things changing,” she answers immediately, the truth just tumbling from her lips like a waterfall. It’s her turn to sigh as she chews over her answer, her head slightly shaking at the ridiculousness of her fear before continuing.

“Like, I know change is a part of life and there is no use trying to resist is because things will change whether you want them to or not. But I like it here. Not just here in Kelowna, but here. This moment; hanging out with you, no curfew, no real responsibilities, no pressure. No worries about bills or relationships or jobs or school or any of that. I just want to keep a hold of these summer evenings forever. If I could repeat this moment every day for the rest of my life, I’d be content.”

Madeleine’s eyes turn to stare at the clouds now painted with the pastel hues of tangerine oranges and peach pink, the view just adding to the magic of this moment and just emphasizing how much of this was temporary.

“I just never want this to end,” she confesses, her words lingering in the evening stillness.

Tyson doesn’t speak immediately, just lets the silence fall, the only noise being the beginning chirps of the crickets. However, Maddie can feel his eyes trained on her face, seemingly memorizing the shape of her as she previously did to him.

“Well then, let’s promise each other something,” he finally speaks. The conviction in his voice causes Maddie’s gaze to turn to him, their eyes locking, and she is taken back by the seriousness reflecting in his pupils. “Let’s promise that no matter what happens, even if everything around us changes, we’ll still be there for each other. Okay?”

“Okay,” Madeleine whispers, her voice soft but the certainty behind her agreement strong.

The quiet peace washes over them again, their promise floating on the wind as they both lean back, looking out at the sunset, content to be together but lost in their own world, their own fears, their own minds. But it only lasts for a moment, the physical and mental space between them shattered as Madeleine feels the brush of a pinky against hers. She glances down to see Tyson’s finger reaching out to hers, caressing the side of her hand, a quiet coax. Her eyes dart back to his face but his gaze remains staring towards the sun. As if he was worried on how she’d react.

Madeleine assuages those concerns by linking her pinky with his, the childhood symbol of a promise never to break. A smile pulls at her lips when she sees Tyson sigh, his brown eyes looking towards her, a matching grin tugging at the corner of his lips. She doesn’t hesitate to lift their intertwined hands, her lips pressing against her own knuckles as a way to show she meant it, an action which Tyson mirrors. Their eyes lock and it takes every bit of Maddie’s willpower to stop her heart from leaping from her chest. Because the way Tyson is staring at her – with the gentle assurance and adoration – makes everything feel different.

This wasn’t the first pinky promise that they’ve made in the four years of knowing each other. But in this moment, they weren’t just a couple of kids making deals for the hell of it.

This meant more. It wasn’t something frivolous or flimsy – it was a vow, an oath, to the universe, to each other.

And it was theirs to keep. Forever.

[jostystyles]

cooler | tj

a/n: this is my entry for @antoineroussel 's winter fic exchange! demi, thanks for putting this together as always!! this fic was written for @butgilinsky <3 I hope you enjoy it dear!! special thanks to @comphy-and-cozy for letting me brain rot about my tyson jost = nick miller agenda, and @suitandtys for the title. divider graphics are by @firefly-graphics . this fic is inspired by nick and jess's first kiss in new girl. i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, alcohol, use of she/her pronouns. mat barzal is an instigator.

word count: 2.8k

The All-Star Weekend, for a certain group of guys, meant the ability to show off their skills for the game they love, and praise for being considered the best of the best. But for the rest of them, it meant something else. 

Freedom & Relaxation. 

Of course, the way the free time was being spent varied from player to player. Some guys returned home to spend time with their kids and families, some took weekend trips, and some just stayed put. 

But for Tyson Jost, Mat Barzal, and Dante Fabbro, it meant a reunion. Typically, they only saw each other during the season when they played each other respectfully, and in the summer when they trained together amongst other things. This break, though, they’d be traveling to Cancun for a weekend getaway with some of their friends from back home. Though they all hailed from different hometowns, they had a pretty tight knit group that tried to see each other as much as possible. So when the group chat collectively agreed everyone would be free for a trip, it was decided. This was going to be a trip to remember. 

“Wait, why the fuck do I need my passport?” Mat exclaimed inquisitively, his voice echoing through the speakers of the FaceTime call. 

Abruptly pausing her packing, (Y/N) turned to grab her phone off the bed. “What? Mat, where the hell do you think Cancun is?” 

“Uh. Florida.” He said, like she had asked him the stupidest question in the world.

“Jesus fuck, Mat, it’s in Mexico. Are you kidding me? Your plane ticket literally says you’re flying into Mexico.” 

As if his mind had just been completely blown, which it had in a way, Mat’s expression turned to one of total shock. “Wow. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” 

(Y/N) shook her head with a sigh, wondering how he has managed to make it this far. Out of all her close friends, Mat was the one she’d known the longest. The two of them had grown up on the same street, their families becoming friends over the years. Despite the jokes from everyone, they’d actually defied the odds to show that boys and girls can be just friends as they’d formed such a tight bond throughout their lives and consider each other like siblings. 

Naturally, they had the same friends. Enter Dante, who came into the picture when he and Mat started playing hockey together. Over the years, the three of them grew closer and other friends came and went, but as they got older, a group solidified. As they became teenagers, Tyson became a part of that group. (Y/N) still remembers the day she first met him. 

Her family was the last to arrive at the Fabbro’s lake house, as usual. This had been a tradition for the past few years, and she usually anticipated it each time. But for some reason she was nervous. She was 14 now, and things were changing. She was no longer the nerdy little girl that hung out with the hockey boys, physically at least. The thought of being in a bathing suit around a bunch of rowdy boys made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She reminded herself it was just Mat and Dante, her two idiot best friends who would make fun of her for the color of the swimsuit, not how she looked in it. Shaking it off, she grabbed her suitcase and wandered through the cabin to the room she shared with Dante’s sisters. Tossing the bag on the bed, she quickly grabbed her book to head down to the water. (Y/N) closed the door behind her and turned around to walk away, only to take a few steps and collide with something bare and warm. She fell to the ground, letting out an “Oof.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going are you ok?” A voice rambled on. 

“Yeah, no problem ‘m good, I-” (Y/N) replied, her voice faltering as she looked up. Her eyes were met with the softest brown ones, flashing at her with a look of concern. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. 

“Here, let me help you up. I’m Tyson, um, Tyson Jost. Mat and Dante’s friend from hockey.” The boy said, reaching down to help her up. 

“I’m (Y/N). Also Mat and Dante’s friend, but um. Not from hockey.” She said, eliciting a laugh from Tyson. 

He stuck his hand out before saying, “Well, here’s to hoping we become each other’s friend too.” 

Shaking his hand, (Y/N) shook her head with a shy smile. A part of her knew her life would never be the same now that he was in it. 

“...when Tyson gets in?” 

The sound of Mat’s voice brought her back to reality. “Hm?” She replied. Rolling his eyes, Mat spoke with a teasing tone. 

“I knew that saying his name would get your attention. Do you know when Tyson gets in?” 

“You’re a dick. He gets in around the same time as you so I’d try and get to the house together. Gabe, Alicia, Jay and I will already be there.” 

“Fer sure. You think this’ll be the trip you finally admit you’re in love with each other?”

(Y/N) shot him a glare. “I will hang up on you right now Mathew. Tyson is not in love with me.” 

“You didn’t deny you’re in love with him though.” 

Caught off guard, she stumbled over her words. Mat let out a laugh, saying, “(Y/N/N) you realize I know you better than anyone right? You aren’t fooling anyone. Except Tys. He’s definitely oblivious.” 

“I will literally skin you alive and slice your achilles tendon if you say anything to him on this trip.” 

“Love you too.” 

If there was anything Tyson needed right now, it was a gigantic margarita on the beach. The past year of his life had been a bit insane, and he was in desperate need of a vacation. He’d missed his friends, too. They didn’t get to see each other that often now that they were older, and cherished times like this. His flight had landed from Buffalo a few minutes ago, and he was waiting at the baggage claim to grab his luggage. Scrolling through instagram to pass time, he felt a hand clap on his shoulder and whipped his head around. 

“Oh hell yeah. Missed you brother, what’s up!” He said, turning to embrace Mat in a hug.

“Missed you too bud. You ready for the best weekend of your life? C’mon. Car’s here.” 

 

“Jesus Christ, Leesh. I can’t believe your boss let you have his fucking house for the weekend. This place is insane.” (Y/N) exclaimed, taking in the sights that laid before her. Alicia’s boss had graciously let her utilize his beach mansion for the weekend as a thanks for her hard work at her company. 

“Eh, perks of being fucking good at what I do.” Alicia said, taking a swig of moscato straight from the bottle. “Who wants a cocktail?” 

“I sure do. Tequila sunrise, light on the sunrise, heavy on the tequila.” A voice cried out, followed by a huff of laughter. 

Turning around, (Y/N)’s confusion turned into a smile. “Barzy, you’re not even through the door and you’re already asking for a drink? Why am I surprised?” 

“You shouldn’t be. I love day drinking.” Mat stated, hugging her. “Watch out. Your boyfriend's right behind me.” He whispered in her ear, earning him a knee to his nether regions. 

Pushing him away, (Y/N) turned towards the guy she’d been waiting far too long to see. 

Tyson stood there, a small smile on his face. After the hell he’d been through the past 10 months, he still managed to smile. That was one of her favorite things about him. His brown eyes looked soft, and duller than usual, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the flight. 

“C’mere you big oaf. I missed you, Tys.” 

He hugged her for a bit longer than he intended. There was just something comforting about being in his best friend's arms again. 

“Ok, if you two love birds are going to keep hugging, we’re going to get this party started. Drinking games start now.” Dante said, shoving two solo cups full of something their way. 

Grabbing the cups, Tyson passed one to (Y/N). “Good to see you too, Big D. Lead the way.” 

“I missed you, you know.” Tyson said, swinging his and (Y/N)’s entwined hands back and forth. 

“I missed you too. Least we’re in the same state now though, right?” 

“6 hours is still too far.” 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Well, at least I’m a train ride away instead of a plane.” 

As they approached the patio, the party was already in full swing. Music was blasting, Mat was already trying to get Jay down from her place on top of the table, and Gabe and Alicia were mixing drinks like nobody's business. 

Tyson shook his head. “Somebodies gonna fucking die here.” 

“Either that, or we’re spending a night in a Mexican jail.” (Y/N) replied. The night was just about to begin. 

To say everyone was fucked up would be putting it lightly. The drinks had been flowing consistently all evening, and it was approaching midnight. The gang had made their way inside for a game of who knows what. At this point, it was just a bunch of drunk people shouting things. Mat and Jay were sharing a bottle of wine, discussing God knows what under the dining room table. Gabe was shirtless, but wearing his swimsuit and dress socks. Tyson had somehow acquired a trench coat he found in one of the bedroom closets, and (Y/N) sported her bikini top and a bright pink tutu from god knows where. 

“Guys, I think we need to call it a night. We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow and it’s only the first day.” 

“NO!” Alicia cried. “Don’t be a party pooper. You were out the latest in college.”

“We aren't in college anymore. I’m tired, Leesh.” (Y/N) wailed, resting her head dramatically on Tyson’s shoulder. 

“Boring. Who wants to play another game?” Alicia shouted, gaining the attention of the whole house. 

“How about good old fashioned, 7 minutes in heaven?” Jay chimed in, waggling her eyebrows mischievously. 

“OOOh, nice one Jay. I’m in. Who votes Josty and (Y/N)?” 

The room erupted in cheers, aside from (Y/N) and Tyson. 

“Hold on, don’t we get a say in this?” Tyson retorted. 

“Nope. Behind the iron curtain you go!” Alicia demanded, ushering them to the kitchen, where she then rolled the door that separated the two spaces shut. 

A chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” began amongst the other friends, as Tyson protested. 

“Open the door! This isn’t funny guys.” 

The chants continued, and (Y/N) sucked in a sharp breath at Tyson’s seeming wish to be left out. Would it really be that bad to him if they kissed? 

After a moment, (Y/N) spoke up. “Ok, we kissed! Sent you a picture!” 

From the other side of the door, Dante looked at the picture, which was of (Y/N) and Tyson with their lips pursed, angled at each others cheeks. “That is not a kiss! C’mon, Inspector Gadget, inspect those tonsils!” 

Barzy chimed in, saying, “Yeah! C’mon, Josty. Just give (Y/N) a tender, sensual, kiss, and we’ll let you right out.” 

“Mat, shut up!” (Y/N) cried, knowing full well he was having a field day with this. 

Tyson was desperately trying to pry the door open, but was unsuccessful. His heart was beating out of his chest. This was not how he wanted this to go. 

Leaning against the counter, (Y/N) pondered, “What’s the big deal? Let’s just suck it up and french a little.” That was the tequila talking. 

Tyson shot his head up at her. “Ok, fine. But don't say ‘suck it up and french a little’.” 

“Ok, fine, let’s do this.” 

They walked towards each other, stopping when they were in close proximity. (Y/N) could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. Tyson’s hands reached out to settle on her forearms. She could see the sparkle in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before. Later, she’d come to know, that spark only existed for her. 

“Let’s just do it.” Tyson said, his voice quivering slightly. 

“Let’s do it.” (Y/N) echoed. “Do it.” 

“Fine.” 

“I’m doing it.” 

“Fine, then do it.” 

“Are you a tounger?”

“Tyson, what the hell.” 

“Well, I don’t wanna put my tongue in your mouth if you don’t like it!” 

(Y/N) sighed, laughing at her best friend. “Just kiss me!” 

Tyson was freaking out. “OK, alright, great. That’s what I’m gonna do.” He grabbed her face, his fingers gracing her soft (Y/H/C) ever so lightly. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” (Y/N) replied, quietly. 

Tyson closed his eyes, leaning in. (Y/N) pulled her head away, saying, “I’m sorry, you can’t do that!” 

“What did I do?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Your face!” 

“My face?” 

“You can’t do that with your face.” 

Tyson burst into laughter, (Y/N) soon following him. They stopped, glancing at each other for a brief moment. Tyson thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. He always had, ever since they met 10 years ago. Just as he was about to speak up, a banging ensued on the wall. 

“Yo, I don’t hear any talking, so ya’ll better be smooching!” Dante screeched. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re getting to it.” Tyson said, not breaking eye contact with (Y/N). 

The chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” picked back up again. 

“Ok Tyson, come on. Just kiss me.” (Y/N) said, frustrated. 

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.” 

“Kiss me!” 

“(Y/N), stop!” Tyson said harshly. 

“God, Jost, just kiss me already!” 

“No, not like this!” he almost shouted. 

(Y/N)’s face turned to one of confusion. “What? What does that mean?” 

Tyson took a step back, his face turning red. “No I didn’t mean… Nothing, I just. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, we can’t. That’s not, you know, like,” He was full on word vomiting, “Do you know like, it’s very, like, you don’t, that’s not what it…” 

(Y/N) tilted her head, a small smile on her face. Before she could say anything, the door swung open, revealing Jay, with an insane look on her face. 

“Ok, times up! Mat and I’s turn.” 

Tyson was gone faster than (Y/N) could see, leaving her with nothing but a sobered up head full of confusion, and a heavy heart. 

Everyone had since retreated to their rooms for the night, except for Jay and Mat who were probably still making out in the kitchen like they usually do when they’re drunk. Her door slightly ajar, (Y/N) saw a quick shadow while she was brushing her hair. 

“Hey!” she cried out. Tyson stopped in his own doorway, turning around to see (Y/N) in hers. She stood there in her silk nightgown, bare faced, with the look of concern painted across her face that she often gave him. 

“You ok, Tys?” She asked softly, stepping out into the hallway just a bit. 

“Yeah, Im good. Just needed to sober up a bit, so I went and sat down by the beach.” 

“Oh. Ok. Listen, about earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just messing around, feeding off our idiot friends.” (Y/N) apologized. 

“S’ Ok, (Y/N/N). It was just a game. I still think you’re cool.” 

“I think you’re cooler. Night, Tyson.” She replied with a smile. 

“G’night, (Y/N).” 

Just as she turned to go inside her room, something shifted within Tyson. Like he wasn’t even thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her flush to him. Before either of them could speak, he pressed his lips onto hers, encapsulating them into a passionate kiss. His arms moved to her lower back, hugging her so forcefully as if it were to be the last time. (Y/N)’s arms were wrapped around his neck, tugging at the tufts of curls that lay at the back of his head. Their lips moved in harmony, Tyson kissing her again and again each time with more push than the last. They finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together and breathing heavily. 

Tyson kissed her once more, than again, and again. He finally looked at her, his finger under her chin forcing her to look at him. 

She was staring at him, her big beautiful (Y/E/C) that he loved so dearly, begging him to say something. 

“I meant something like that.” Tyson told her, before dropping his hands from her figure and retreating into his room, and shutting the door.  

(Y/N) stood there, in complete and utter shock. She brought her hand up to touch her lips, and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Tyson Jost was going to be the death of her, and she’d been hoping to see the Grim Reaper for quite a while.

tags: @comphyjost @tinyhockey @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @ilyasorokinn @lt-natrace

[nolanscheeks]

Working the night shift and it’s chill and I’m bored. Also super in my soft thoughts about Jack. Indulge me and send your soft thoughts!!