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Whoops a little late, but its for Patater Week!

Feb. 6- Get Together

Kit’s one of those funny cats that likes going on walks and so Kent takes her walking everyday at a park. There they meet a gigantic dog and his even bigger owner.

#and then they fall in love and stuff idk this is why im not a writer haha #patater #PataterWeek #patater week #omgcp #alexei mashkov #kit purrson #tater tot #parsnip #my arts

Close Your Eyes

Summary: Soulmate AU where your eyes turn their true color once you kiss your soulmate. After a disastrous first kiss, Kent starts wearing colored contacts and swears that he won’t kiss anyone ever again. Too bad he never was very good at following the rules. Rating: T Wordcount: ~1,000 A/N: Patater Week AU day

He's been hooking up with Tater for a little more than 8 months when Alexei leans down to kiss him. Kent stumbles backwards. His pants are tangled around his ankles and he goes crashing down to the hardwood floor of Alexei's apartment. Kent yanks his pants back up and ignores Alexei's outstretched hand.

"No kissing," Kent says, hands braced in front of him as though he's going to be attacked.

The only person Kent's ever kissed was Jack. It was slow and sweet and achingly perfect until they broke apart and there were grey eyes looking back at him. Three days later Kent went first in the draft.

#check please #patater #patater week #pataterweek #kent #alexei #myfics #I thought about ending it with the line he opens his eyes #but then decided not to be evil #;p

forever starts right now.

For Patater Week. Set in Careful the Tale You Tell verse.

It's about two months into their relationship. (Their proper relationship, not the year of fumbling that led them there.) Kent's bugging Alexei about his stuff taking up too much room in Kent's dresser drawers. "Can't we, like, pick a drawer that's yours and you can have that one, so your shit isn't all messed up with mine?"

"You're wanting to share drawers?" Alexei says, merrily putting a pair of pants in right next to Kent's pants, god damn it.

"At least can we fucking talk about it?"

"Pff. No, too early. We talk about it when we get married," Alexei says breezily.

Kent nearly trips face first over his own dropped jaw.

And from then on, it turns into a thing.

#patater #kent parson for ts #pataterweek #patater week #omgcp #cp for ts #stuff tippy wrote

Patater Week Day 3 - Fake Dating ( Part 1/?)

Another partially complete one because this fic has decided it wants to be really long. Here’s like 4k though.

“Kent?”

Kent looked up from his cocktail to see Jack looking at him with a frown on his face, various Falconers arrayed behind him and looking on curiously. Oh shit. He had been successfully avoiding Jack for months, and now he goes and picks the same goddamn bar after the game. Is this the universe telling him to stop drinking? Fuck you, universe.

“Jack,” he said evenly. There is an absolutely zero percent chance that Jack will believe him that this is just a coincidence, especially because none of his teammates are here. Sue him for wanting to have a quiet night. Next time he’d just go with them to the shitty club.

“Why are you here?” Jack said forbiddingly. “I thought I made myself clear—“

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Zimms, you don’t want to see me.” He pushed back from the bar, mouth twisting bitterly, and abandoned his drink. “I’m not stalking you, promise.” He made a split-second, impulsive decision. “I’m here to see him.” He reached out and pulls in the nearest Falconer, not even looking at his face.

“You’re here to see…Tater?” Jack asked incredulously.

#Patater Week #patater #Check Please!#Kent Parson #Check Please fic #my fic

Patater Week - Day 4

Feb. 9 - Alternate Universe – Soulmate AU, 2.4K (everyone has their soulmate’s first thought about them on their skin – both still in NHL - coda of sorts to Dot Your Ts and Cross Your Is)

“You’re in a good mood today,” Jack comments, as slides in next to Tater in the nook. “Mhm,” Tater hums and chews his sandwich. “I find soulmate,” he says, like he’s commenting on the weather. Snowy and Thirdy look up from their breakfast, and Marty nearly snorts out his cereal. Guy pats him on the back a little harder than necessary. “You found your soulmate, Tater?” Poots asks carefully. “Like, the one who said ‘You’re tall and hot, I want to die,’ that soulmate?” Almost everyone’s seen that particular marking in the locker room, and though no one actually voiced it, a large majority of the team had covered up their jealousy with chirps. Who doesn’t want a confidence booster like that as a soulmark? Tater simply nods, and Thirdy flies up, excited.

“That’s great, man!” he crows. “Who’s the lucky girl? Did you meet her at a bar? Was it after the game against the Aces?” “You should bring her around sometime,” Marty comments. “I want to meet the person who has to put up with you and your snoring all the time now.” The table laughs, echoing their assent. “I’m happy for you,” Jack says, and Tater glows. “So who is she?” Marty asks. “Yeah, Tater, is she hot?” Thirdy adds. “Yeah,” Tater says casually, and takes another huge bite. “He is very hot. He also make this sandwich before I’m leaving.” The crowd of catcallers fall silent almost immediately. Snowy’s mouth falls open and a toast crumb falls out. Jack’s eyes widen as he stares at Tater’s expression, which has not changed from his previous, besotted look. “He is not good at making sandwich. Next time I go to kitchen and see how he do it,” Tater admits as he shrugs. “It’s thought that count.” There’s another awkward moment, but Marty’s already leaning in and taking a huge bite, quick as anything. “Hey!” “Chicken salad’s kind of dry,” he comments. “Tell him to use more mayo.” “Wait, man, no fair, I want to try,” Thirdy complains as he leans his weight on the table towards Tater. “Don’t be stingy.” “Get your own,” Tater guffaws, then tries to stuff the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and almost chokes. Jack doesn’t think he’s ever seen Snowy laugh this hard before. Or like, at all. Jack doesn’t know if it’s happy giddiness he’s feeling as he watches the table start teasing Tater good-naturedly, or if he’s lightheaded because he almost has to Heimlich maneuver the dry chicken and bread chunk from Tater’s throat, but he gets a quick flash of introducing Bitty, his own soulmate, to the Falconers. They’d love him to pieces, Jack thinks. Bitty will feed them even more pie, Poots is going to cry. “What’s his name?” Jack asks, after Tater isn’t in danger of suffocating anymore. “Kent Parson,” Tater answers. “He is Captain of Las Vegas Aces.” Tater smacks his lips, then adds, “How long does chicken salad keep in fridge? Kenny says a week, but Google say 5 days.” Initially, Jack thinks his internal screaming is him actually screaming in reality, but then he realizes that it’s just Thirdy and Marty and the rest of the Falconers present roaring their lungs out simultaneously, with Poots in the background going, “Tater, you have to get me his autograph you’re my only hope.” Jack thinks he might’ve heard a “Boo, traitor, Parson sucks” from Snowy, but he’s not really sure of anything anymore.

Kent doesn’t visit until 6 months after Tater’s announcement, but Tater seems determined to make up for it by talking to Kent on Skype every chance he gets. He goes to Vegas three months before Kent’s visit and returns starry-eyed and insufferably dopey. He also starts talking about Kent to the Falconers. Whether it’s about the Aces’ most recent win or Kent murdering a new recipe, the Falconers locker room has heard each one at least twice. They’re all happy for Tater (Poots is practically frothing at the mouth when Tater tells him that Kent had agreed to sign his jersey— “Why didn’t you just bring a jersey back?” Poots groans, and Tater just holds up his arms and says apologetically, “I forget! Next time! Maybe.” And all that just ignites another round of chirping). Tater and Kent apparently had taken to each other like an old, decrepit house on fire, in the most sickeningly romantic way possible. Once Tater boasts that he sent flowers to Kent for Valentine’s Day as a surprise, and that Kent had called him so fast Tater had thought Kent had been mad, but he’d really just been crying since the arrangement that’d been delivered was so excessive and it’s absolutely like Tater to go all out. Tater’s always staring at his phone and smiling at every new message Kent sends, and they seem to talk to each other on Skype every single day. He’s getting worse than Jack, Marty had once commented, and Jack, seeing how ridiculously happy Tater is, cannot bring himself to ask whether Tater knew about Kent and himself. They’ve somewhat made their peace by now; Kent phoned him one night, sounding exhausted, and stammered out an apology. It’d been terse, and while Jack had accepted his apology as sincere, neither of them have ever been good with words. He wonders if Kent is the same as before. He doesn’t forget how Kent had crowded him against the door of his own room in Samwell that night, his eyes decidedly fierce as he spits venom when Jack wrestles him off. “I miss you, okay? I miss you,” Kent had said, his face slack with desperation, then frustration. His grip on Jack’s shirt loosens, and for a moment the hurt cracks through and Kent looks like Kenny from the summer before the draft, with his fingers grasping at a love he never had. But Tater looks so happy when he’s on the phone with Kent before a game. It’s his new little ritual. Kent always takes the time to make a five-minute phone call, and Tater does it for Kent’s games as well, apparently. Tater sits in the locker room, phone pressed against his ear as he whispers things like, “Thank you. I miss you, too. We bring Kit to Providence next month, too? No? Haha…” It’s incredible how the same words that had slashed Jack in half can brighten Tater’s entire day. He doesn’t tell Bitty, either, because he hates for Bitty to be anxious for him, even if Jack knows that Bitty will, without a doubt, drop everything and hop on the train to Providence if Jack ever needed him. He wants to tell the world he loves Bitty, so very, very much, and even though he’s comforted by the fact that his teammates won’t react negatively, especially after Tater’s announcement, he wants to keep Bitty’s sleep-tousled hair and smile to himself for just a short while longer. “How was your day?” he asks Bitty again that night through Skype, as he always does. He says nothing of Kent, only that Tater’s soulmate is a man, and that they seem to be very happy together. Bitty eyes twinkle, but he doesn’t voice what they’re both thinking. “I love you,” Bitty says, as Jack lets his soulmate’s drawl slow the beats of his thundering heart until his head is quiet again. “So much, sweetheart.”

Tater picks him up from his apartment the next day in the afternoon, and Jack can see that Tater is thrumming with energy the entire ride to the airport. He talks about Kent and their daily Skype calls, and how Kent tried to bring them breakfast in bed but ended up spilling orange juice all over the cat instead. Jack just makes a bunch of noncommittal noises like “Hm” and “Ah” as he casually grips the armrest handle like Tater’s driving isn’t the most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced. They’re in the lobby now, with Tater craning his neck to see over the other travelers and checking his phone every once in a while. Jack clears his throat. It was now or never. “Um, Tater?” “Mm?” Tater’s still looking at the gate expectantly, like if he looked away even for a second, he’ll surely miss Kent. “How much, uh, do you know about me? Like, I mean, about me before. In the Q?” Jack never talks about it. He didn’t figure he had to, not with the headlines everywhere from back the proclaiming his teenage decline as Bob Zimmermann’s legacy. “Little bit, here and there,” Tater says absently. “Hear things, but not much. Respect privacy, so…” He shrugs, still absently scanning the crowd. And it’s sweet to hear, for a change. Jack hadn’t expected that. “But you—Kent and I—did Kent ever tell you—” “See him!” Tater exclaims suddenly, and Jack is jolted from his thoughts. “He’s here! He’s—” Jack sees doesn’t see anyone that looks like Kent, but Tater’s already maneuvering Jack’s shoulder so he’s facing him. “Do I look okay? Smell my breath.” Then he actually huffs on Jack like he’s six and Jack’s his mom checking if he brushed his teeth. Jack laughs, despite his nervousness, and pushes him off. “You’re fine. Get off of me.” And just like that, Tater bolts ahead, sidestepping the families and tourists until Jack sees that he’s heading for a man dressed in a grey hoodie and headphones. Tater’s waving his arms like a hooligan, and when Kent finally turns in Tater’s direction, even Jack can see that Kent’s mouth is falling open as he rips his earphones out, and the grin is so bright Jack would’ve been able to spy it from a mile away. It’s like a scene ripped from a bad romance flick. Kent picks up his bag and makes a mad dash for Tater, and Tater nearly loses his balance trying to go around some businessman’s luggage. They slow to a stop about a feet before they actually touch, and Jack sees Kent’s mouth form a very small “Hi.” Kent’s bottom lip is wavering as he schools his composure, but Jack’s well aware that he’s definitely looked at Bitty with that exact same expression many times over. Tater’s examining Kent like he can’t believe Kent’s corporeal, which is borderline ridiculous because there hasn’t ever been a missed night of Skyping. He breathes, “Kenny—” And it’s like a trigger is switched. Once Kent hears the nickname, he literally drops his duffel bag and jumps into Tater’s arms like he’s scrambling up a tree. His hoodie flies back as he buries his head in the crook of the taller man’s neck, his legs wound around Tater’s waist. Tater catches him like they’ve been doing it for years, and it’s heartwarming and sickening sweet but they’ve never looked happier. They’re hesitant when Kent bends his head down for a kiss, their noses bumping. Kent giggles, and Tater hardly notices as they fall into the next kiss, a real, proper one, like they’ve been aching for it for ages. When Tater finally lowers Kent, Kent’s expression is so open and laid bare that Jack is taken aback for a second. It’s love, Jack can see. Pure, unfiltered love. The kind that makes you want to smile beyond the confines of your face. The kind of love that surges over Jack whenever he looks at a text or good luck note from Bitty telling him that he believes in him, and that he is needed. “I missed you,” he says breathlessly. One of Tater’s slides over to Kent’s forearm, where Kent’s soulmark is, and Kent’s hand hovers over Tater’s ribs reflexively. “Did you—?” “Yes. Every day,” Tater says as-matter-of-factly, still smiling like a fool as Kent just about melts. After about ten seconds of this, he seems to remember that Jack is now standing behind him awkwardly. “Oh, Kenny, I bring—” “Zimms,” Kent says. He sounds a little surprised, but not unhappy, either. “I—” “Hey, Parse,” Jack says. Kent seems at a loss for words, and he’s shuffling. Tater’s hold on his waist tightens, as he glances at Kent then back at Jack. “I—God, Zimms, I’m…” Kent looks dumbstruck. “It’s so good to see you again,” he finishes. “It’s been a while,” Jack agrees. “You look happy.” And Kent beams at as he leans into Tater, who rubs his shoulder with a sure hand. Jack hasn’t seen that gentle, quiet smile on Kent in years. “Come on,” Kent says softly. “I want to meet the rest of your team properly.” “You mean off the ice and not where you could get beat up?” Jack chirps automatically. He’s a little surprised at how easy it is to get back into the same rhythm with Kent. “Yep,” Kent says, not missing a beat. “Unless the Falconers are hitting financial rock bottom and can only afford you and Zimms.” They’re still a long way from being alright, but without the dread of the draft or a summer with a deadline looming over their heads anymore, they start over, and they take it slow. So they go.

#PataterWeek #patater week #patater #bee writes #soulmate AU #jack zimmermann #past pimms #implied zimbits #check please

Never Change Mind

Kent wanted to tell the entire world about his boyfriend. His amazing, talented, loving, wonderful boyfriend. But he knew that wasn’t possible. He was out to his team (that had happened after an unfortunate incident in a club that Swoops still refused to talk about) and Alexei was out to his (he had come out under much better circumstances, as a show of support for Jack), but no one knew that they were dating. Well. Swoops knew that Kent had a boyfriend, but, no matter how much he wheedled, he couldn’t get a name (he just knew it wasn’t the guy from the club). Alexei said that Jack also knew that he had a boyfriend, but Jack, being Jack, was respecting his teammate’s privacy and not asking. “It’s great, being out and all, but I want to be able to brag about you,” Kent said one day, dragging his fingertips lightly over Alexei’s face on his laptop screen as they talked over Skype. “I mean, I know that it can’t happen. We’re expected to be rivals on—and off—the ice. But god, it’s hard.” Alexei nodded. “Zimmboni talks about tiny baker always. Bitty this, Bitty that. I want to say my Kenny, he does great things too. My Kenny, the most pretty and most talented and best at hockey. But I cannot.” “Damn, secret relationships suck,” Kent said with a frown. “And the only reason that I can’t tell my team is because you play for the Falcs. I mean, I’m fine—my boys will chirp me to hell and back, but they do that anyway. But there’s the whole Falcs-Aces thing and I don’t want to bring that down on you.” “I know, Kenny,” Alexei replied. *** They had left it at that, although it didn’t get any easier. And then as they got into post season things got even harder. Both the Aces and the Falconers were looking good for a Cup run and Alexei was playing incredibly—god, Kent wanted to express how proud he was of his boyfriend. He had accidentally made friends with Bitty somewhere along the reconciling-with-Jack road, so the two of them shared increasingly excited texts during the Falconers game (when the Aces weren’t playing, at least) shouting about their respective boyfriends. But as nice as that was, it wasn’t quite the same as being able to talk to Swoops or anyone else on the Aces. And then, finally, they were at the final playoffs. The Falconers and the Aces in direct competition for the Cup. “I’m thinking maybe coming out,” Alexei said as they Skyped a few days before the first game between the two clubs. “Jack, too, after end of Cup. He wants ask tiny baker to marry him. I’m just done waiting.” Kent bit his lip. “I’ll come out, too. If you’re coming out, I want them to know that you’re spoken for, that you’re mine. That I’m yours. We can come out together.” Alexei’s face lit up with a grin and that was that. They were coming out after one or the other of them won the Cup. It was real. *** Kent shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking slightly on the blades of his skates, as he waited for their introduction. They were playing game seven for the Cup on home ice and sure, that was stressful, but it wasn’t the only thing on Kent’s mind. “You okay, Parser?” Swoops asked, punching Kent’s shoulder lightly. “I know that this game is it, that no matter what happens someone’s going home with the Cup, but we’ve won twice before, and last time was in game seven, and you’ve never been this nervous.” “It’s not the game. It’s—gah,” Kent said. “It’s that after this I’m coming out. Publically. I talked to management and PR and they’ve okayed it. It’ll be me and my boyfriend presenting ourselves to the world.” Swoops’ eyebrows shot up. “You’re coming out? And your boyfriend is here? We finally gonna get to meet the man who makes our captain into a lovesick fool?” “Oh shut up,” Kent got out before he heard the beginning of Lady Gaga’s Poker Face followed by “here come your Las Vegas Aces!” As they circled through warmups, Kent caught Alexei’s eye and winked. His boyfriend grinned quickly, then went back to his own warmups. Kent had to focus. This was the Cup; he had to be the best. He couldn’t be anything else, not until the game was over. *** Everything seemed to be going perfectly for the Aces. This was the way they should have been playing all along—if they had, they would have won the Cup in four; the series wouldn’t have dragged out to seven games. When the final horn sounded and the Aces poured onto the ice in a shouting, hyper-excited mass, Kent couldn’t meet Tater’s eyes. He knew that only one of them was going to get to hoist the Cup, but he still didn’t want to see the sadness and pain associated with coming so close just to lose. It made even hoisting the Cup—for the third time; more times than anyone had every thought that the Las Vegas Aces would ever win—bittersweet. “You gonna hold this thing with your boyfriend?” Swoops asked as Kent handed the Cup off to him. “Haha, no. I can’t,” Kent said, and Swoops looked confused. He didn’t question it, though, until the next person had the Cup and he returned to Kent. “What the hell do you mean, you can’t?” he demanded. “You just being selfish or what?” Kent glanced across the ice. Most of the Falconers were gone, although Jack and Alexei still lingered, probably waiting for Kent. As soon as Alexei saw that Kent was looking over at him, he started skating over to him. “Not being selfish. It’s only superstitions,” Kent said and skated away from a still very confused Swoops, meeting Alexei at center ice. “I’m sorry you lost,” he said, looking up at his boyfriend. “How do you want to come out? Interviews?” Alexei shook his head. “You ready?” Kent furrowed his brow. “Of course I’m ready. Are you changing your mind? Is that why you’re shaking your head?” “No, not at all.” Alexei looked closely at Kent, gaze firm. “I’m never change mind about you.” Before Kent could ask any more questions, Alexei wrapped his arms firmly around Kent and leaned down, pressing his lips to Kent’s. Kent didn’t react for a moment, not believing what Alexei was doing, then he kissed him back. It was perfect, so very them. “Hey, Tater,” Jack called after a moment, skating up behind them. “Coach is looking for you.” He glanced at Kent, still held tightly in Alexei’s grasp. “Congratulations, Kenny.” As Alexei and Jack headed off the ice, Kent went to regain his team. “What the fuck?” Swoops asked, staring at Kent. “I thought your boyfriend was here, but you’re out there at center ice making out with fucking Mashkov? What’s your boyfriend going to say?” Kent shrugged. “I think my boyfriend is going to say ‘I’m never change mind about you’ and kiss me on the ice after I win the Cup.”

#patater week #patater #alexei mashkov #kent parson #swoops #fic #my writing

Patater Week Day 6

Is this a day late? Yes it is. Does it still have ridiculous Patater fluff? Of course!

Kent was furious. He stomped through the underside of the arena, ears and cheeks red with anger. Logically he knew it was an accident, and James wouldn’t have done it on purpose, but it still had happened. Kent rounded the corner into the visiting team’s trainer’s room and visibly relaxed when he saw his boyfriend.

“Kenny, why you here?” Tater frowned and sat up a little, his trainer pushing him back onto the exam table.

“Mr. Parson, he’s still being examined, so if you wouldn’t mind, could you wait outside?” The trainer requested.

“He’s my boyfriend, I’m staying right here.” Kent insisted.

#pataterweek #patater week #omgcp #omgcheckplease #patater #alexei mashkov #kent parson #parse #tater #bp-mine

I Miss You

Intended fan fic for Feb 11th of PataterWeek = Cuddling/Snuggling. But I missed the deadline. So it’s here now and that’s just the way it’s gotta be.

Fandom: OMGCheckplease

Pairing: Alexei Mashkov/Kent Parson

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2869

(Also on AO3)

The apartment is quiet when Alexei opens the door. He listens out for signs of life but there's nothing save for the hum of the refrigerator followed shortly by a slight tinkling sound and then soft thudding across the hardwood. Alexei crouches, folding his huge body nearly in half to greet the tiny animal who captured his boyfriends heart long before Alexei tried for it. Kit mewls softly as she rubs her face along his extended hand, letting him pay her due attention before she winds her body through his long legs, brushing her side against his ankles. When she's done she takes off for the kitchen pausing only long enough to send back a look that clearly says 'come along then'. Not one to ignore the cat even though objectively he knows it's ridiculous to let an animal call the shots, he follows stopping with an amused smile when he sees Kit staring up at the cupboard where they keep her food. She's clever he'll give her that. Genius even, because Alexei didn't think he was a cat person at all until he met Kit. Alexei is pretty certain he's in Kent's heart but Kit is still making him work for it and seeing as he loves Kent as much as Kent loves his cat he takes the bowl out and fills it up. She rewards him by dipping her face delicately into the bowl, eating a few pebbles and then sauntering away as if she didn't really want it. "You just like to see men dance." he whispers accusingly. He swears he sees the cat shrug.

"For hockey or for you?" Alexei grins, "Both." "Be nice to me." Kent groans. "I always nice to you. Very nice." He gives Kent a hot look and the other man, too tried to check himself, blushes. It's a good look on a man who frequently has more front than Brighton. He nods towards the sofa, "Room for me?" Kent nods and Alexei shrugs out of his jacket and unbuckles his belt, pulling it mock seductively through the loops. "Take it off." Kent says in a funny voice looking more awake now. "Easy." Alexei breaths crawling over his boyfriends form and easing into the gap between the back of the sofa and Kent's sleep warm body. Without prompt Kent lifts his head so Alexei can slide his arm under it, providing a nice bicep pillow. His height makes him the perfect big spoon, a role he plays often and eagerly. He loves it, the feel of Kent curled up against his hard muscles, pressed fully into every dent and ridge like the spaces were made just for him. He inhales the smell of Kent's shampoo and nuzzles the soft skin at his nape pressing his lips there, tasting him. Sometimes they make love like this, their bodies so close they can't even really move, they just breathe together' Alexei savouring the feel of himself inside Kent's body and Kent savouring the feel of Alexei inside him, around him. In those moments Alexei thinks their bodies must have been made for one another, there's no other explanation for how well they fit together. It's a powerful feeling he’ll never get enough of. "You're cold." Kent bitches with no real feeling. Just to be a brat - usually Kent's job - he rubs his cold nose against Kent's skin. "You're warm." He sighs. Kent grabs his hand pulling it over to rest on his firm sculpted belly. Alexei spreads his fingers out letting the tips of them dip just slightly beneath the sweatband of the grey joggers that stretch deliciously over Kent's backside. He doesn't make a move to tuck his hand in further or reach for Kent's dick, it's enough to tease, to just be this close and know that when they wake they'll still be together. "Missed you." Alexei rumbles. "It was only a few days." He freezes. These are not Kent's words they're Alexei's and he said them with an exasperated sigh just before walking out of the apartment for four days to go to Dallas. He doesn't know what Kent means by this, they both know that being together while their teams tour and train is difficult. Hell it took them a year to get to this point, with Alexei essentially squatting at Kent's when he's near Vegas and Kent living out of a giant suitcase when he's near Providence. During their long drawn out courtship there was a whole four months where they just missed each other coming in and out of states. Kent would text Alexei that he'd be in town just as Alexei was watching it fade from view. Kent: Just arrived in Detroit. Alexei: Bus just cross state line.

He wasn't used to being the mopey one on the bus. "Kent." he tries not to sigh but he doesn't want to argue. He's missed him too much to spend the time they have together arguing about something that neither of them can or even really wants to change. Well, that's not strictly true. Alexei does want to change the way it feels like they're always just snatching time together but in order to do so one or both of them would have to give up hockey and as much as they love each other they also love hockey. It's who they are not just what they do. It's what makes them great players. Kent's given up so much to get where he is now. To give up hockey too would make all that sacrifice for nothing. Alexei doesn't want either of them to give up what they love but it does kill him to know that every visit starts a countdown. He loves Kent, he wants to move in with him or have Kent move in with him but they've both been putting it off because they're training grounds are in two different states meaning it's cheaper to keep two apartments rather than stay in hotels or wear out their friends sofa's. Even if they can afford to room hop at nice hotels Alexei hates hotels. Everything is too small for his giant hands and as nice as it is to have your breakfast cooked for you he likes cooking his own breakfast thank you very much. It's just hard because they miss each other and rather than talk about it (because really, how many times can you argue about something that you can't ever change?) they find themselves sniping and snarling. Maybe it's an effort to stave off the hurt of departure. To prompt the pain before it can surprise attack you. Stupidly they think that parting on a fight means they'll both be too mad to be sad about missing one another but it never works that way. The anger just piggybacks onto the sadness making them feel worse. For Kent it's worse. Alexei knows this because he knows him. Kent is a stewer. He lashes out over fights and arguments he doesn't really care about, hell he spends his fair share of time in the sin bin so he's not afraid to throw down and be seen to throw down but when it comes to arguing with the ones he loves an onlooker could be forgiven for thinking it never happens. Alexei knows better. He and Kent fight, they fight about being apart, they fight about their apartments and their future with the NHL and after it, but it's a quiet fight. It's a resentful grumble beneath the breath. It's a door slammed in one of their apartments. It's a strained exchange before they turn in for bed, sleeping next to one another but on opposite sides as far as they can get without falling off. They might exchange a few words about the actual problem and, yeah okay, they blow up at each other and shout but for the most part Kent will keep what bothers him about their situation to himself. With a breaking heart Alexei knows it's because Kent is afraid he won't care. That one day he'll turn around and say something like, 'You are right. I am sick of this fight. I don't want to have it anymore because I am tired of you.'. Alexei would never brush off Kent's fears like that because they are his own but Kent is very used to people turning from him. Wound tightly together in bed after some particularly intense sex Kent had admitted, with his face buried in Alexei's chest, that he doesn't like to tell the ones he loves that he's upset with them or frustrated by something they do because they don't need him as much as he needs them so it would be easy for them to decide to up and walk away, to decide that they were tired of how needy he was. Kent is very insecure about his place in other people's worlds. Even the teams. Alexei still gets mad when he thinks about it and yes a little frustrated because he doesn't know how to tell or show Kent enough just how important he is to him, how loved he is by him. It's not that Kent is constantly moving the goal it's that he doesn't even bother setting one up on his ice because he doesn't think anyone would wanna score. Alexei wants to score. He loves Kent so much it makes him breathless and he can't stand the knowledge that Kent will have spent four days festering about their last fight but not mention it because he's afraid Alexei will leave. "We should talk about before I left." Alexei feels Kent stiffen in his arms. "It's fine. It was silly." he shrugs his broad shoulders to illustrate how not big of a deal it was. It wasn't a big deal, they didn't say things they would regret or be unable to come back from but it was deal enough that he thinks they should talk about it. "You were upset." "I'm over it." "Are you?" Kent doesn't say anything and that feels like progress because though he doesn't say anything he isn't lying either. "I'm sorry I stormed out. I know you were upset. Me too." "I know." he whispers his breath fanning out over his forearm. "Away is difficult." "It's only going to get tougher." "Is okay." Kent turns in his arms and the forlorn look on his face makes Alexei's heart beat out of time. "What if it's not?" He pauses a little scared. Is Kent asking him or telling him? "What you mean?" Kent opens his mouth to answer and Alexei inhales subtly not because he's steeling himself (well maybe he is a little bit) because he doesn't want to spook Kent back into silence. Except it doesn't work. Kent closes his mouth then lies and says, "Don't worry about it." He can't help the growl of frustration that leaves him. "Kenny. I am here now." "I know babe and I'm loving it trust me." he throws a leg over his hip pushing their groins together trying to prompt the sort of reaction that guarantees no talking for...thirty minutes at least. Alexei stills him with a hand on his thigh fighting the urge to slide it up and over his firm bubble butt. "Kenny stop." Kent blinks at him self-consciously. He blushes, embarrassed not turned on. "Okay." he tries to withdraw his leg but despite the theme of the situation Alexei quite likes it there so he holds on. "You were upset about my leaving. I was upset too-" "I know." "You still upset?" At length he replies, "Yes. I just-" he breaks off with a sigh and Alexei prompts him with a gentle but insistent look. "It's hard to keep doing this. Six months of not seeing each other for more than a few days. Weeks apart while we play tournaments. Staying in hotels...alone?" The implication is not subtle and Alexei bristles. "I am alone." "I know, I know!" Kent presses his palms against Alexei's chest. "But I'm just saying that if you wanted to, you know not be alone...I'd get how that happened."