"𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐜𝐞", 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈, 𝐚 𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐩!
[Author Note: Helloooooooooooooooooo hi!!
So I planned on posting that two days ago, on my birthday but well- ended up being more busy than expected!!
Thank you so so so much for the love on this fic, it means a lot to me! I'll try to update it again this week!🦭ིྀ°‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
If you peeps are interested, you can find me on Substack for fic updates! My substack is @/ melhyanwrites!
Substack: https://melhyanwrites.substack.com/?r=88a9kt&utm_campaign=pub-share-checklist
Thank you so so much once again, also please lemme know what you think of this chapter down below (also the dynamic with Connor and a certain someone-)!!̇ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆。
Links are below the snippet!]
Thursday practice starts the same way it always does—late arrivals, someone forgetting half their gear, the locker room already too loud for the hour, laughter bouncing off tile like it’s got nowhere else to go.
Duncan’s there early. Not on purpose though… Just there.
Sat on the bench, elbows on his knees, taping his stick slower than usual while the rest of them trickle in around him like a storm building.
“Alright, lads,” Connor says as he drops his bag with a thud, already grinning like he’s about to start something. “Big question.”
Duncan doesn’t even look up. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask.”
“I do,” Duncan says. “And it’s no.”
“Do you think the gremlin will be there today?”
“Gremlin’s generous,” someone adds, kicking off their shoes. “Man’s like—what—five foot?”
“Five-five,” another guesses.
“Five-six, if he’s got dreams.”
“Five-six and a temper,” Connor says. “Dangerous combo.”
Duncan snorts despite himself, still focused on his tape. “He’s not that small.”
The room goes quiet. Not fully. But enough.
“…oh?” someone says slowly.
Duncan pauses, then realizes.
“Oh, he’s DEFENDING him now—”
“You just said ‘he’s not that small’ with your chest, mate—”
“That’s not a defense, that’s a fact.”
“Right, yeah, facts he says,” Connor nods, dead serious. “Very important to you, his height accuracy.”
“Yeah, Duncan, wouldn’t want to misrepresent him—”
“Alright,” Duncan cuts in, tossing the tape aside, already regretting opening his mouth. “I saw him once, that’s it.”
“Oh, you saw him,” someone echoes, delighted. “Here we go—”
“How then?” Connor leans forward, elbows on his knees, invested now. “Paint us a picture.”
Duncan exhales, long-suffering already. “Went back for my gloves, yeah? He was out there. Practicing.”
Duncan shrugs, like it’s nothing.
“No, no, rewind—Duncan said ‘he’s good’—”
“‘He’s good,’ he says, about the gremlin—”
Duncan drags a hand down his face. “He is good, you idiots.”
“How good?” Connor presses.
Duncan hesitates, just for a second.
“…like—proper,” he admits. “Like—annoyingly good.”
“Oh, he’s gone,” someone says. “We’ve lost him—”
“Man watched ONE spin and fell in love—”
Cue kissy noises. Actual, loud, exaggerated kissy noises.
“—mwah, mwah, Duncan and his little ice prince—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Duncan laughs, shoving at the nearest one.
“You stayed, didn’t you?” Connor says, eyes narrowing. “You didn’t just grab your gloves and leave.”
“That’s romantic, that is—”
“It’s not romantic, he was doing spins—”
“Spins,” someone repeats. “Duncan knows the terminology now—”
“Next he’s gonna be like ‘yeah, his edge work was insane’—”
Duncan points at him. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“So you admit the edge work—”
“I’m not having this conversation.”
Wattpad Link right there!!
