2. Catching small fish-big fish

Connor does not have enough patience for fishing.

It’s too quiet, too calm, too time-consuming in a boring kind of way—wait, don’t tell Fraser about this.

However, he couldn’t say no to Fraser.

So, when his boyfriend pulls over his driveway with a full fishing gear on, Connor has no chance other than getting on Fraser’s ridiculous gigantic chevy trail truck.

Connor then would spend another 30 minutes watching Fraser, who’s watching closely to their rods. Because Connor couldn’t care less about fishing.

But the second Fraser notices Connor’s rod’s been moving, he’d tell him, “Babe, you got it!”

Connor would get overly excited over the smallest fish they caught that day. “Awesome!”

3. Washing gears

“You really don’t have to, though,” Fraser hesitantly puts down his gym bag.

Connor really doesn’t have to. Especially when he already washed his.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” He opens up Fraser’s gym bag, pulls out the Bruins gears, and removes every inner pads one by one.

Usually Connor would wash their gears all together in the summer. Filling up the bath-up with months of unwashed Bruins and Hawks gears. But because Fraser was playing for the Worlds, and he didn’t. He washed his own earlier this summer.

He insisted to wash Fraser’s gears. Saying he just bought new cleaning products that are strong but super safe for the materials, smells good and also long-lasting.

And Fraser was already gone by the time Connor asks “Please, let me wash yours?”

Later that night, Connor proudly shows Fraser his squeaky clean gears that now smells exactly like Connor’s.

“Good job, Babe! Thanks a lot!”

4. DIY random furniture

“I didn’t know you craft,” Bryce—Fraser’s brother says as he hands some screws Connor asked him to drop by his house.

“I don’t—well, not technically, I learned some while doing CIBC ads,”

Bryce’s brow raises, “One ads and now you’re a carpenter?”

“Hey, be nice. It’s for your brother’s birthday present. Plus I have my close personal friend to help me with it,”

“Macklin?”

“Youtube,”

Connor spent 3 weeks at his garage building a three-tier minimalist bookshelf for Fraser.

“So you have more space to keep your new books,” Connor says as he hides his bandaids-covered hands.

Fraser shakes his head and smiles. He reaches out to Connor’s hands, and brings them close to his lips. “Thank you,” he mumbles before kissing those hands.

“Who’s you’re talking to?” He asks, trying to act nonchalant as he buries his jealousy deep inside of his aching heart.

“Mason.”

Mason. Mason. Mason.

As if a full game season he had with Mason at Boston, and IIHF at Switzerland (even though they’re on different team but whatever) wasn’t enough so he has to talk to him during offseason too.

Connor’s petty.

Well, he always is whenever Mason’s the topic.

Connor hides his big eye roll with looking back at his own phone. Scrolling up and down at Macklin’s room text, hoping his best friend somehow send him another text so he can also text someone. But nothing. So, he swipes up, opens instagram instead, hoping to find new funny reels so he can also laughs at his phone. But also, nothing.

He scrolls hard on his phone.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Hard ticks from side nails scrapping on his own screen.

He hates it. He hates it when his body reacts uncontrollably childish whenever he gets jealous. It’s too embarrassing— too visible, especially for Fraser who knows how his body talks since forever.

“Hey, whats wrong?” Fraser puts his phone away before sliding his body on the couch to be closer to Connor. “Con?”

Connor doesn’t answer, he doesn’t want to answer. He’s too mad, too embarrassed.

“Connie?”

“You’re ignoring me,” he blurs out with a single breath. No matter how mad or embarrassed he is, he could never ignore Fraser’s pleading, especially when he calls him ‘Connie’. “We just had time to hang, and you straight up ignoring me, and you chose to text Mason. Go ahead and fucking text Mason, or just calls him goodnight, or do whatever you want you prick!”

“What?” Connor could hear a huff— straining between laughs and disbeliefs, from Fraser, “What are you talking about?”

Connor places his phone down before crossing his arms, “Whatever,”

He could feel his head banging with anger, eyes filling with tears, chest tightening with air. Everything just feels wrong. And he blames it all on Fraser— he doesn’t know Mason well enough to blame it on him too.

“Connie. Hey,”

Connor slaps away Fraser’s hand. He doesn’t want any touch that could make him less angry at Fraser. He doesn’t want any touch that could melt him away. He’s angry, and Fraser needs to know that. He needs to know how a simple text with Mason could flip Connor’s heart out.

But the next thing Fraser does throws Connor off guard.

Fraser jumps off the couch and kneels in between Connor’s thighs, “Connie,”

Connor tries hard to ignore those fucking greenish blue eyes. But that attempt seems to fail— drained to the sewage even. Because Fraser’s effortless drag on both of his thigh to bring him closer, just so the kneeling person could place his chin on Connor’s thick thigh, completely throws him off guard.

“Mason was planning on coming to Vancouver, you know—world cup,” Fraser soft voice soothe Connor off, “He wanted to ask you to watch the game with him, since I know nothing about soccer. But he’s scared of you,”

Connor could feel Fraser’s calloused finger on his thigh, circling around, asking for Connor to put more and more attention on Fraser, “I told him to not be scared because you only bite me,”

“Fraser!” Connor slaps away the finger.

The older one laughs off, “Not wrong tho,” he says as he plants kisses on Connor thigh.

“I’m sorry,” Fraser mumbles, “For ignoring you, for focusing on Mason when you’re around, for being so stupid,”

“As you should”

“Yup, as I should,” No argument coming from Fraser, “So do you forgive me?”

“Mm,” Connor answers half-heartedly. Not because he’s still mad, but because he loves to tease.

“Can I get a kiss?”

“Mm,” Again, he answers.

“Taking it as a yes,” Fraser kneels up from the floor so he could reach for the red plump lips

“I love you,” peck.

“I’m sorry,” peck

“I love, love you,” peck

Connor smiles as he takes every pecks Fraser gives. “I love you t—,”

Ting.

Ting.

Ting.

Connor growls. Mason, no doubt! “I fucking dare you to answer his goddamn text,”

“Nope! Wouldn’t dare,” Fraser pecks him several more times, completely ignoring Mason’s text.