#2072

they are not superstitious per say, so sex isn't really off the table, but after the first round it doesn't happen often. yeah sure, they'll make out lazily on the couch, their hands unusually soft and tender on each other's skin. there are no teeth, no pushing and shoving. just soft kisses and bodies being held with a gentleness that they both forgot they were capable of. but they are so exhausted, so sore, that it barely goes anywhere, both of them content to just cuddle and enjoy each other warmth for a while.

and it's good. like both of them are exploring a new aspects of their relationship. one that is less demanding, less frantic. they stare at each other and explore new ways to make the other gasp or moan softly. it's soft and new and they can't get enough.

when slaf got hit by max crozier, arber held his breath, worry and anger boiling under his skin. because how the fuck did that happened ? after that game he spends the night looking at slaf at the corner of his eye, making sure he didn’t lie about the concussion, making sure he doesn't lie about the pain. juraj gets annoyed and tells him so but arber just stares, eyebrows furrowed with a fierce expression. 'well one of us has to worry about that hit, and it sure as hell isn't you'. and the bite in arber's voice makes slaf relax a bit, a smirk stretching his lips. 'oh so you're worried about me now ?' he asks jokingly because he is a little shit and will always enjoy arber being vocal about his feelings for him. 'fuck you' is all arber answers, still pissed. 'well i might take you up on that as soon as the playoffs are over' slaf says, coming to kiss arber gently. 'i'm fine, i promise'. and arber huffs at that because it's such a blatant lie and he knows it. but what can he do ? they both want this so bad, it makes everything else unimportant. yet still, worry is eating at him slowly.