OC Kiss Freedom Day 1
Written for @ockissfreedom day one: First kiss | Playing along | Cheek
My rook Ayden de Riva, with @lucaniseyebrowlicker's rook Daphne, and also @corvus-frugilegus's rook Nazri.
—
“We could do it, y’know?”
Ayden was sprawled on Daphne’s bed, when she said it. They’d met up mostly for drinks more than a hook-up—Ayden had stayed up late after the NHL awards and then flown out early; their head was still throbbing with a hangover calling for hair of the dog, echoed by the much more pleasant ache in their throat from how enthusiastically they’d blown Naz after the ceremony. Maybe they were just getting older, but the sneaking around had started to stress them out a little more this time. They were long past rookie season now, and the rush of attention that had come with being new on the scene had really only ebbed for a season or two. They were both good enough for the eyes on them to have gotten only more intent over time.
It sent fireworks through their veins as much as it made their ribs feel too small for their lungs.
“Do what?” they asked.
“Get married,” she said, with a grin. “Make a big splash. It’d get eyes off you and,” she waved her hand like she was batting away a fly, “That other guy.”
“Yeah, putting a wedding everywhere would make my life super private,” they drawled. Let their head flop back onto the mattress.
Daphne propped herself up enough to hover over them, nose a few inches from theirs, eyes narrowed, “I’m serious.”
“Fuck off,” Ayden said.
“It’ll make you seem less suspicious,” she said. “And you know I won’t mind about you fucking your way through the entire NHL.”
“I’m not fucking my way through the whole roster, fuck off,” they said. “And I’m not going to ask you to actual, for-real marry me so I look less suspicious.”
“Oh, ‘cause it’d be such a hardship,” Daphne said, shuffling the rest of herself over so she could lie on top of them properly. “Living in your fancy apartment, spending all your stupid brand deal cash, getting free tickets to games.”
“Try long distance house-hunting if I get traded,” they said, and she scoffed.
“No one’s trading you, please. And I’m being genuine. I think we should do it.” One of her fingers tapped at a tender spot in their neck, “Gives you a built in excuse for walking around with these.”
“According to twitter I already have one, and it’s called being a whore,” Ayden said, stomach warming at the grin that split Daphne’s face.
She slumped down onto them properly, turning so her forehead was pressed to their temple. Pressed a firm kiss to their cheek.
“I mean it,” she said. “Buy me a ring. It’ll be great. I’ll get to be a scandalously young divorcée.”
“I’ll think about it,” Ayden said.
—
Having Daphne at home games was fun.
She didn’t come to all of them—the season was way too long for that—but Ayden always felt a little more energised when she was watching. Apparently, that went double when they played Montreal.
There was an edge to it. Maybe one Ayden should’ve expected, but it wasn’t like they were good at forethought. They hadn’t known how to explain any of the plan to Naz, so they’d defaulted to not explaining anything at all. Had sent a text after morning skate like nothing had changed. The response had been maybe, but Ayden had sent Naz enough maybes that the build of adrenaline barely halted. And awkwardness didn’t linger on the ice—Nazri had looked at them, before the opening face-off, like they were trying to figure out what they were missing. But Ayden had won, caught the puck from their left winger five seconds later, and five seconds after that Naz was slamming them into the boards behind Montreal’s goal like nothing had changed.
Only that now Ayden got to slip into the family room in their under-layers before they showered and have someone to meet there.
“You reek,” Daphne said, not unaffectionately. “Surprised you took the time to stop by, given.” She waggled her eyebrows at them instead of actually finishing the sentence.
“Oh, so you were sticking around for no reason?” they asked mildly. Really, they were waiting for a text back. But they were pretty confident it was coming.
“Playing Montreal makes you such a bitch,” she said.
They grinned, slipped their hand into her back pocket to tug her closer. Felt weirdly aware of how normal it all looked. The guys had all rolled their eyes at Ayden apparently skipping the girlfriend stage to go straight to fiancé, but no one actually thought it was suspicious.
“You like it when I’m a bitch,” they said, watching her roll her eyes.
“You’re going out celebrating tonight, thought?”
They shrugged, noncommittally.
There was always something heady about the waiting, the anticipation, something like a game. Whatever it was, it felt like Daphne could read it on their face. She laughed, leaned in to kiss them on the cheek and murmur into their ear.
“Have fun. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
They grinned, kissed her properly, slipped away to properly clean up. Stayed hyperaware of their phone in their pocket the whole way back to their apartment. Felt all that anticipation coalesce into heat when it buzzed.
—
Turned out the wedding only made things better.
They never would’ve admitted they wanted it, but the nights with both Daphne and Naz in their bed always left something burning in their ribs. Good burning, like going camping, or a bonfire on the beach. The end of a cigarette, tucked around the corner of a bar where no one could see. They were sprawled on their bed with Daphne a long warm line against their side and Naz propped up on their arms at the foot of the bed watching them. Ayden kept pressing their toes into Naz’ hip, trying to see when it’d annoy them enough to move.
Daphne said, “Why are you so far away?”
Naz shifted on the bed, shrugged casually, “I should get back to my hotel.”
“You’ve already missed curfew,” Ayden pointed out, rolling their eyes. Poked their foot a little harder into Naz’s hip, until they reached down to pin their ankle to the mattress, eyes narrowing.
Ayden just grinned at them.
The moment stretched long enough that they thought Naz actually was going to leave. Instead, they heaved a sigh, shifting to stretch out along Ayden’s free side. Daphne made a satisfied noise, leaned over Ayden’s chest to press a clumsy kiss to the highest point of Naz’ cheekbone.
The fire in Ayden’s ribs got warmer. Words bubbled up, ideas about taking time during the summer. Finding a way to sneak somewhere together, all three of them. Steal something more than just a night in the middle of the season, when everyone’s schedules lined up. But they didn’t say anything. Kept it all locked under their tongue. Tightened their arm around Daphne’s waist, tucked their nose behind Naz’ ear.
Fell asleep pressed between both of them, knowing it was too much to hope they’d wake up like that too.
—
It wasn’t that Ayden couldn’t take a hit, it was that in a perfect game they were so fast they didn’t need to.
They talked too much, sharpened all their edges, got their opponents wound up enough their reaction time splintered. Left them floundering in the spray they shaved off the ice, meanwhile Ayden was coasting in on the goal. Master of the breakaway, the commentators called them sometimes. It got them into the big leagues, got them to the highlight reels regularly. When Viago had scouted them for juniors he’d scolded them about it, sometimes. Rats took hits. Stupid to build a career on trying to get people to end it. Ayden had taken it as a challenge; do something coach didn’t approve of and score before he could call them out on it. Thighs burning as they pushed themself down the ice, breath tight, stick steady. It didn’t matter how big the enemy was if they couldn’t catch you.
So. It was instinct.
Rafe’s blank face, in the shitty bar lights, was eerily similar to Viago’s. Ayden didn’t wait to see what he’d say.
Saw Bea, over Rafe’s shoulder, grin blooming in recognition before whatever expression was on Ayden’s face had it faltering. But they were already turning on heel, got out the door without anyone getting a hand on them or a word in edgewise. Clear ice. All they had to do was keep their legs pumping.
In theory they went back to their hotel, slept, got to the airport the next morning with no issue. In practice they got back to their apartment and felt like they’d been sprinting the whole time. The place was empty—They’d known it would be. Maybe it was a good thing. Nothing between them and what they needed to do. Daphne had asked for the divorce months ago, and they’d known the marriage wasn’t going to be forever before it’d ever started. Both of them had been putting off actually getting the paperwork done. But now they could only hope they were moving with enough time to let Daphne get out of the way. The papers were in a folder in their office, they’d made some noise about one clause or another their lawyer wanted to take another look at, but they’d been talking shit and they knew it. Dropped their suitcase in their bedroom, went initialed their way through the whole thing before they even unpacked.
Part of them wanted to give Naz a heads up, but they’d never managed a serious conversation before and they didn’t want to start now. Besides, if shit was going to hit the fan, better to keep them nowhere near Ayden.
It’d look suspicious, if it seemed like they knew it was coming. Better to let them get surprised with everyone else.
Their heartbeat settled with every other piece of the plan. By the time Daphne got home, they were on top of things. Maybe not feeling good about any of the things, but they’d gotten the ground to feel mostly solid. Nothing had happened yet, so hopefully that meant they had some breathing space. Tried to keep their face under control when she looked them up and down, eyes narrowing.
“I can’t tell if you had a really good road trip or a really bad one.”
“You didn’t watch?” they quipped, sharply, and she rolled her eyes.
“I’ll care about the Western Conference when we get to the cup and not before.”
“I’ll tell the Kings that the next time I see them,” they said, “We did win thought.”
That was the stupid part. They probably would never have gone to that fucking bar if they’d lost. They liked dropping in to see Bea when they won, playing up the gloating and making him laugh. Fucking stupid decision.
“Congratulations,” Daphne drawled, dry as ever. She’d put her bag down on the kitchen table, was searching through it. Didn’t look like she’d seen the papers they’d left sitting there.
And Ayden was just putting it off and they knew it. Time to bite the bullet.
“I signed the papers,” they said. Nodded to the manilla folder.. Watched her go very still. “I thought—If we wait until summer there won’t be anything else going on, it’ll be big news. But if we sneak it in now, it might get lost in all the end-of-season shit. Everyone’s talking about who’s making it to the playoffs, it’ll bury it.”
Daphne looked up from her bag, met their eyes, “Right.”
There was a furrow forming between her brows. She was looking at them like they’d done something totally unexpected which just—She’d wanted the divorce, she’d called time on everything. Ayden wanted to take the words back already, pull out some dumb excuse, something that needed double checking. They’d run the clock down on themself, though. They bit all of that back.
“I thought you had some things your lawyer wanted to change,” Daphne said, almost tonelessly.
“I’d read it wrong,” they shrugged. “Realised when I talked to him about it that it was all good. Which means the timing worked out.”
“Sure,” she said, “That’s good.”
Everything was too still, and too close, and Ayden couldn’t take the way she was looking at them. They forced themself to move, leant back into their heels.
Said, “I’m still kind of wired, actually, I’ll be in the gym if you need me. I—If the timing doesn’t work for you, you can file the papers whenever. I’ll just—I’ll be good.”
They walked forward. Knew there should be something else to say, couldn’t almost feel it on their tongue, but couldn’t bring anything else up. Pressed their lips to her cheek instead, fingers light on her hip. Her hand caught their forearm, freezing them in place. The frown felt only more intense this close up. For a moment they thought she was going to ask, and if she asked there wasn’t going to be anything they could do to keep their guts from spilling out all over the floor.
But after a long moment she just said, “Ok. I’ll see you later,” and let go.