#chowwriting

Congrats on the bet whooo! I can’t believe it’s taken me nearly a week and this is only the first of eight. Have patience with me pals

They’ve won the game and everyone’s happy and laughing all at once. He can speak as loud as he wants because everyone else is too, going over their best plays and the ones that maybe needed some work and Chowder’s swawesome saves and their plans for tonight. 

“I swear to God, man,” Dex says, pulling a sweatshirt over his head as Chowder bends to put his guards on his skates, “when you swiped that last one out from Fourteen’s feet, I thought he was going to squat down right there and lay an egg.”

“An egg!” Chowder repeats, laughing. 

Nursey, who is sitting next to him, taps him on the shoulder. “Your girl’s here,” he says, and Chowder looks up to see Caitlin at the door of the locker room, beaming. Her nose doesn’t even wrinkle at the smell of hockey and sweaty men. Wow. Chowder really loves her. 

“Good game, baby,” she says, then her eyes widen and dart to Ransom and Holster, but they’re talking to Ollie and Wicky and too occupied to fine anyone. She walks over to him and bends down to kiss him quickly. 

“Hey Farmer, you coming out tonight?” Dex asks, hoisting his duffle over his shoulder.

“Oh, I’ve got a game tomorrow morning so if I do, just for a bit. I can’t drink, either way,” she says, shrugging. 

“Cait, did you see that last save?” Chowder asks. He’s still feeling the rush from the game, even though it ended nearly an hour ago. His hands flap in excitement, and she laughs. 

“Course I did. You were amazing, as always.” 

He opens his arms and she sits on his lap. 

“I got your lucky charm,” she says, then pulls out Chowder’s favourite shark-shaped chewing necklace from inside her shirt. “I gave it a kiss before every puck drop, like you said.”

“You’re the best,” he says, nuzzling into her hair and tapping out a rhythm on her thighs. She giggles as she pulls it over her head and places it around his neck. He kisses her again before he takes the shark into his mouth.

“You two just gonna chill in the smelly-ass locker room all night, or are you coming back to the Haus with us?” Dex says, one eyebrow raised. 

On the court Cate sets to March who spikes it hard, barely waiting until the ball bounces before swooping in to celebrate.

“Is it just me, or is it a bit hot in here?” Chowder asks as they sit again after cheering, frowning.

“No, man. You’re right,” Ransom says, unsticking his shirt from his chest.

Holster just laughs.

Faber is packed for the last home game of the season, and Chris hasn’t let anything in all night.

“Oh man, I think I’m coming down with a fever,” Cate says, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

March shrugs. “Nah, I’m sweating too.”

April’s cackles rise above the noise of the spectators.

It was a warm kind of quiet that enveloped them, wrapped them up like the fleece blanket they shared. The steady rainfall outside, the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, the low thrum of the mini-fridge in the corner, Caitlin’s contented sigh against Chris’ chest, the soft suckling noise of Chris chewing on his silicone necklace, the rustling of the sheets as they moved together to find a more comfortable position. She kissed his collarbone, a gentle smacking noise, and pressed her ear to his chest, his heart thumping out the beat to the afternoon’s song.

“Did you -- uh -- did you know Chowder could dance like that?” Tango whispers to Whiskey, who’s eyeing the scene with a critical eye. It’s their first Kegster, and Tango’s a bit overwhelmed. Chowder, sweet, innocent Chowder, is dancing with Farmer, if it can be called dancing.

“It’s like they’re having sex standing up,” Whiskey says, one eyebrow raised. He’s exactly right. Chowder’s got his hands tight on Farmer’s ass and she’s grinding down on his leg while her hands roam his chest inside his shirt. Their mouths haven’t separated since the song began.

“Wow,” Tango breathes. “Um. Huh. Do you think she ever gets caught in his braces?”