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Baby, It’s Cold Outside

summary: Seth doesn’t really mind that his game is cancelled, especially when it means spending more time with you.

wc: 1.7k

a/n: my first hurricanes fic w/ one of my fav hurricanes guys! this is a lil self-indulgent but oh well. inspired by the real storm thats about to hit half of the u.s., everyone pls stay warm & safe!

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“Cancelled?” Your disbelief cuts through the otherwise peaceful lull of Seth’s apartment, which was a rarity with him.

He chuckles, squints his eyes at you. “Yeah—well, moved to a later date anyway. To be decided or whatever,” He hurriedly thumbs at the joystick of the controller he’s holding, guiding the virtual version of himself across the ice to attempt a wrist shot on Ottawa's goalie.

The shot bounces off the post and Seth groans. Since he couldn’t play his actual match against the Senators, he had settled for recreating it in NHL 26. To you, he seemed just as frustrated by the video game as he got in a real life hockey game.

“Huh. Well, that makes sense, I guess I didn’t realize they could just…do that.” You hum thoughtfully, fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt. Your legs were comfortably draped across Seth’s lap, the rest of you nestled into the cushions of his comfy couch. He kept you pinned there, leaning into your legs as he played, like they were a seatbelt keeping him strapped into a rollercoaster. In between games, he’d sneakily inch his hand toward your foot until you felt a soft wiggle of his fingertips along the arch of your foot, causing you to swat his hand away. What? Seth would say, feigning innocence, I didn’t do anything!

Outside his apartment window, clouds loom over the Raleigh skyline, gray and threatening to spill over with the snow that was responsible for cancelling the Hurricanes’ game.

The storm was all anyone had been talking about for the past week—meteorologists doing their best to predict the snowfall, local schools advertising their delays and cancellations, grocery stores picked clean of bread and milk.

“Yeah well, you southerners go crazy over a little snow.” Seth smirks, putting on an over-the-top southern drawl, mimicking your own. As much as he liked teasing you for your frequent use of “y’all” and the way you pronounced certain words like “tire” you knew he was a sucker for your accent. He leans forward off the couch, as if inching closer to the TV would help him to make this next shot.

“Nuh uh,” you chirp childishly, “It’s not just snow. It’s an ice storm.”

Seth didn’t really get it. Being from Canada, he was actually used to dealing with more than his fair share of snow and ice. Down here, it just wasn’t the same. Down here, it was much rarer to get battered with winter weather. And as much as you liked the snow flurries, you were less than prepared to deal with its after effects.

“And,” you huff while attempting to shimmy your legs off his lap, “I should really get going before it rolls in.”

“What?” Seth swiftly pauses his game, latching onto your legs to keep you close to him. He all but launches his controller onto the coffee table, turning towards you with puppy dog eyes.

You laugh lightly, falling back into the pillows. “Yeah, I don’t wanna be on the roads when it starts snowing. May get stuck at home for a while.”

You watch as the gears slowly turn in your boyfriend’s brain, a lightbulb flickering on from above his head.

“Soooo…” Seth drags out, rubbing slow soft circles into your kneecap, “Just stay here.”

“Really?” You ask, quirking up an eyebrow in surprise. You and Seth had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now, but you had yet to spend the night at either one’s apartment. For one reason or another—your nerves, his late games, your work schedule, his long stretches on the road—always got in the way.

“Yeah, really!” He laughs, as if what you said was hilarious. “Like you said, you may get stuck in the house. So get stuck here, with me. I don’t want you to be alone in this mess. I mean, what if you lose power?”

“Oh, so now it’s gonna be a mess? Thought it was just a liiiittle snow?” You tease, pinching your fingers together and moving to sit up. You scooch closer to Seth, your legs still swung over him.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Hey, I’m just sayin. You’re the one who said it’s supposed to be an ice storm. I’m just lookin’ out for my girl.” Seth says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth.

You rub at your cheek, as if that would erase the heat blooming across your cheek from hearing Seth call you his girl. You’d be lying if you said an extended sleepover with him didn’t sound like a dream come true. In fact, it was what you’d been waiting for.

But a small part of you couldn’t help but feel nervous. Scared even.

“But…I don’t have any of my clothes here.” You squeak out, pressing your cheek to the couch.

“Just wear my clothes.” Seth quickly responds, like he’d been waiting for you to bring that up. Eager to offer up his wardrobe to you, the mere thought of seeing you strut around the apartment in his clothes had his brain short-circuiting.The blush returns to your cheeks, and you lean into the couch harder.

“I don’t have my toothbrush or toothpaste. Or my shampoo, or my conditioner, or my hairbrush, or my facewash, or my favorite pillow—”

Seth’s laugh cuts you off. “Well baby, get in the car real quick and we’ll swing by your apartment. You can pick up some clothes and all your little,” he wiggles his fingers in front of your face, “essentials.”

He drags his thumb across your warm cheek, his touch featherlight. You hum, not daring to speak aloud just yet.

“Unless you don’t wanna stay over? That’s okay too.” He questions, his tone not hurt, rather understanding. Seth had wondered why you hadn’t asked to stay over yet, but never pressed. He liked what the two of you already had, and had no intention of pressuring you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

“No, no,” You quickly rush out, grabbing at his hand to keep it smushed against your face, “I really do. I guess I’m just…nervous?”

“Nervous?” Seth snickers, brows raised incredulously, “Of what?”

You shrug, suddenly self-conscious, “I don’t know, like…maybe you don’t want to spend that much time with me. Like you’ll get tired of me, or—”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Seth presses a finger to your lips to shush you, causing you to smile, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough time spent with you. And I could never, ever, EVER, get tired of you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he’s quick to interrupt again, “In fact, I couldn’t think of a better way to end my night than getting into bed next to you, and a better way to start my morning than waking up with you next to me. If anything, you’ll be the one getting tired of me.”

His confession makes your heart stutter. You don’t know exactly what to say---can’t put into words just how much hearing Seth, (who’s usually so casual with his spoken affection) say that means to you. Instead, you show your gratitude through the kiss you plant on his lips, soft and lingering. Seth melts into the kiss, matching your fervor.

“Okay,” You say simply, resting your forehead against his.

“Okay?” He smiles, pulling away to look at you, “Go get in the car babe, let’s go get your stuff.”

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Seth watches you from his spot in the bathroom, leaning against the door frame as he brushes his teeth. You’re nestled in his bed (which looks infinitely more comfortable with you in it) watching the wintry mix fall from outside the window, clad in nothing but a pair of panties and one of his oversized shirts, despite the fact that you’d packed enough clothes to last an entire week.

Not that he was complaining. Far from it, in fact.

He quickly finishes brushing his teeth—much earlier than he should, no way that his teeth were entirely clean—spits out the froth of toothpaste and water and practically jumps into bed.

You giggle, shifting over slightly to make room for him. Seth only scoots closer into your space, desperate to feel your skin against his.

“It’s really coming down out there,” You remark, gaze still fixed on the flurries of snow and sheets of sleet that tumble against the window.

“Aren’t you glad you decided to sleep over?” Seth mumbles against your neck. He was spooning you now, your back flush against him, arms wrapped around you tightly. Sometimes you wondered how his teammates would react if they knew how much of a teddy bear Seth was behind closed doors. Some of them, like Jesperi, would surely give him hell for it.

“Aren’t you glad I did?” You deflect, rolling over to face your boyfriend. He gives you a toothy grin as you throw a leg over his waist, effectively entangling yourself with him under the sheets, “Damn right I am.”

That makes you giggle, as most things Seth says tend to do. It’s effortless with him. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the scent of him and the faint pattering of freezing rain against the window pain making your eyes grow heavier.

Seth brushes a hand through your hair slowly, “You know,” He says quietly, hesitant to interrupt the peace, “I could get used to this.”

“Hmm? And what would that be?” You hum into his chest, raising a brow as if pretending to consider his words.

“You, wearing my shirt—that’s like, two sizes too big on you. In my bed. Next to me, with no plans tomorrow except whatever we want.” He’s whispering now, mouth tickling your ear.

If Seth wasn’t holding you against him, you’d swoon. “Careful,” You tease, “You’re going to get spoiled.”

“Welp,” He says, popping the P, “Too late!”

You smile to yourself, and for a moment, neither of you speak. The room is filled with the soft patter of ice against glass, the low hum of the heater kicking on, Seth’s steady breathing against your collarbone. His hand rests at your waist, warm and grounding, thumb tracing absent little arcs like he’s memorizing you.

“I could get used to this too.” You murmur quietly, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Seth’s grip around you tightens, drawing you closer into him, if that were even possible. He’d need to hold you close all through the night, he convinced himself.

It was cold outside, after all.

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