Kane/Saad. You don't need to protect me.
I HAD TWO IDEAS FOR THIS. HERE IS THE FIRST ONE.
Patrick notices it his second shift on the ice. Q’s put him on a line with Brandon and Patrick’s grateful to have someone who knows him, knows his passes. Brandons not Jonny, but they’re learning each other, know when the pass will come and where to shoot.
Patrick’s skating hard for the net and he needs Brandon to be at the net, to take the pass, but instead, Brandon is slamming headfirst into Kronwall, who had been about to check Patrick.
Chocking it up to a one time thing, Patrick shoves down his irritation and plays hockey. Except Saader does it on the third shift and the fifth. When Brandon is yet again too busy getting between a defenceman and Patrick to take a great set up, Patrick barely resists the urge to snap there, on the ice.
When they make it to the bench, Patrick’s gearing up to yell at Brandon, to ask what the fuck that was, but the words die in his throat. Brandon ‘s looking drawn, tired, and besides, they don’t yell. That’s Patrick and Jonny, so wrapped up in each other’s progress that they can’t see past the next shift.
"Saader," Patrick says, leaning in.
Brandon looks up, eyes shining with something Patrick can’t describe. He thinks of that morning, rising up to meet Brandon as they’d kissed, Brandon’s fingers hot against his skin, the first time they’d been able to fuck like that since Patrick’s injury. He lets out a breath.
"You don’t need to protect me," he says.
"But," Brandon starts, but whatever he sees on Patrick’s face brings him up short. "I don’t know what else to do."
That’s easy. Patrick’s lips quirk up into a smile. “Get me the puck.”
Brandon nods immediately, and then smiles. It’s small, not the smile Patrick loves best, but it’s a start.
