#tangledinthetide

ilya stares right through shane from the other end of the couch as he speaks. cheeks turn red with anger he's trying to mask. ❝ that is not fair. ❞ and it wasn't. not in ilya's mind. he hated to say that he had it harder the hollander. that more was at stake for him. but he didn't have a family who would love him no matter what. he didn't have to worry about never being able to go home again.

what happened two nights ago is something that kai can't get out of his head. he closes his eyes and all he can see is baby blue hues looking back at him, filled with lust. his crooked smirk, the mess of blonde locks stuck to his forehead as his pace increased, the way his hand came to cover kai's mouth because he was being too loud, which, in vanya's defense, he definitely had been. even the look on his face when he orgasmed, right after kai had, felt like a continuous loop. he couldn't stop thinking about him. whether he was making food for himself, reading, out jogging or even focusing on helping his little brother, his mind somehow went back to vanya and the way he had made kai feel, the way his intense gaze burned a fire inside kai he didn't even know existed. losing your virginity at a random holiday party to someone you just met was less than ideal, might even be a nightmare situation for some people, but kai swears, there was something alluring about vanya. he was unlike anyone kai had ever met before, and he was easily putty in his hands. they exchanged numbers before leaving, vanya's words being something along the lines of text me if you need something to take the edge off.

so, kai had. the first text was the day after, a simple hey this is kai :). no response, so he waited hours and hours, and seeing as there was still no response, he sent another one. kai from the other night at the holiday party btw lol. unsurprisingly, there was still no response. today, kai checked again and still nothing, but he could clearly see that vanya had read his messages. he had his read receipts on. the idea of him reading his texts and not responding made kai's heart feel heavy. still, being the optimist he is, he told himself that vanya was busy. that he had opened the messages and would respond later. he wasn't just ignoring him, right? he sent one final text before deciding he had to get out of his house to distract his mind. the text read i do need something to take the edge off actually, do you like matcha? with that, he was driving towards his favorite cafe. they had all kinds of drinks like coffee, smoothies, boba, and his favorite, an iced matcha latte with cheese foam. upon parking, he locks his car, then looks at his texts with vanya again. he had read his most recent message, yet, there was still no response. kai lets out a defeated sigh, the smallest hint of a frown beginning to form on his lips. that's when a familiar scent hit his nose, a mixture of weed and cigarettes. distant laughter was heard, but what really caught his attention? the sound of people speaking in russian.

turning around, he spotted none other than vanya standing in a circle with a couple of other guys. they were laughing, smoking, and talking in what kai knew was vanya's native tongue. he could imagine these were other russian friends vanya had, and that they all preferred that over english. vanya had obviously not noticed him at all and neither had his friends. kai opens their messages again, and clear as day, he can see that they've all been read and unanswered. unable to stop himself, he sends him another one to test if what he feared was true. let me know if you would want to meet to get some, on me. hitting send, he looks right at vanya and waits. clear as day, he watches as the other fishes into his pocket and pulls out his phone, looking at his screen. just like that, the phone was back inside his pocket and he continued to chat with his buddies. kai looks at the messages on his own screen and once again, sees that vanya had read his latest message sent not even a minute ago, but didn't reply. at that moment, an unsettling feeling ignites at the pit of his stomach. it's a mixture of anger with something else he can't pinpoint. kai lets out a scoff, and much to even his own surprise, he finds himself practically storming towards them.

it all happens before he can even stop himself, but even as he's approaching, the conversation between them all dies down. there's a fire in the way he looks at vanya, not the slightest bit intimidating, but enough for anyone to realize that he's unhappy. "you know, it's crazy how well your fingers worked when they were inside me the other night, and now they can't even text me back." this comment ignites laughter from vanya's friends, and he can hear two of them whispering something to each other in russian. kai is well aware they're making fun of him, but he's so angry and hurt, that he doesn't care. "why are you being like this?" he finally asks, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that resembles an angry kitten. there is, unfortunately for him, nothing frightening about malakai hewer. not when he's happy, not when he's pissed off, not at all. "i thought we could get a matcha or boba or even coffee if you don't like either of those." this sentence comes off a lot softer than when he originally approached them. someone from vanya's group blows smoke directly in his direction, causing him to make a face, but he says nothing about it. "i just wanted to see you again. sorry if that's such a heinous crime."

❝ did you cut yourself carving the pumpkin? let me see it. ❞ (Just gonna use an earlier time with Emre and Rin)

Rin finished wrapping up her hand as she looked at the Pumpkin. The face was lopsided and the teeth looked horrible. "I mean, maybe but you know, it's just a scratch."

She couldn't help but wince as he took ahold of her arm and as she tried to pull back and hide just how bad her injury was, she huffed. "You know, having a partner that is an athletic trainer and good with knowing my faces when something actually hurts, it's like not fair. I can't seem to hide anything at all from you.

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, yet she made no sudden move to take it back. Instead, Brynn allowed Emre to sit up and begin to get dressed as she admired the sight in front of her from underneath the warmth of the bedsheets. Not for one second did she regret a single moment of their time together the previous night. No, she simply just couldn't see how they could possibly make things work outside of those four walls. It might not have made a whole lot of sense, but sometimes friends with very, very fun benefits truly was the better option.

The way Emre seemed to understand and go along with her decision only seemed to make everything that much more complicated. It left Brynn with a sense of uncertainty, almost as if maybe he hadn't enjoyed her as much as she'd enjoyed him. Then again, given the sounds she'd pulled from him mere hours earlier, that couldn't possibly be the case. God, why did he have to act like such a damn gentleman? Why couldn't he fight back? Why couldn't he argue with her until he ultimately got his way and had her melting underneath his touch all over again? The brunette wasn't daft enough to honestly believe he could read her mind, yet for whatever reason, despite how much her mouth wanted to speak up, her head refused to let her form the words.

"What if I don't want simple?"

And there it was. Finally, she'd actually managed to verbalize the truth for a change. The sudden one eighty would surely leave Emre's head spinning, yet if Brynn didn't continue with the confession, she never would. Sly grin now lined still slightly swollen lips as she sat up in the bed, resituating a pair of pillows before leaning back against them. The sheet had now fallen from flushed skin, exposing the marks that lingered against the body he'd claimed as his own without hesitation. With any luck, the visual reminder would leave him craving to repeat the entire process all over again as soon as possible.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. Just how exactly am I looking at you right now?"

Eyes might have gone dark with desire, and chest might have been lightly heaving as the flashes of their stolen moments together ran rampant throughout her mind, but for whatever reason, Brynn still needed Emre to be the one to make the next move. Whether it be with words or in actions, she needed him to let her know once and for all that he didn't care about their age gap and didn't believe she was only using him in an attempt to remedy her supposed, messy daddy issues. He didn't have a single qualm about the fact that they more than likely wanted completely different things from life. Maybe it wouldn't be easy, but they could figure it out.

The All Star Weekend was going to be a nightmare. Not only had he just, finally, come out to someone for the first time, but he had ended a very, very public relationship with said person (and thankfully both he and Rose Landry were media savvy enough to never actually have confirmed their relationship, as brief as it was, and only mentioned one another in any posts as friends. He loved her already, platonically, for that. The internet was pervasive, and had it been someone else? They might have outed him for clout. She had never even considered it.

He's hardly realized he's spoken before the towel snap, even at a distance, snaps him out of his thoughts. He was just thinking it. Playing with Ilya had been something he'd wondered about for years, but the league was always striving for that rivalry, and they had done a good job of keeping it fresh in the minds of the fans and the league. Between gimmicky All-Star Games, or one of them being injured that week, this was their first chance to prove they could work together on the ice as well as (no one knew) they did off of it. Ilya volunteering to play Wing had surprised him, but in the end, they might as well have been the only two on the ice for most of the game, the way they easily scored with each other. They won, the West stood no fucking chance against the pair of them.

"I knew it would be different, playing on the same team, but I didn't realize how much." He always enjoyed playing against Ilya, because it was a challenge. He loved when the game was difficult. It was the only way it was fun. He hated games that were easy wins, even if they were still wins. Shane had too much to prove, and it was better when it was against a team that actually fucking tried. Against players who did. And he knew Ilya didn't care half as much as he did about hockey in general - he was just naturally that talented.

He's been gathering his things, because the game is over, and everyone was talking about getting dinner, or going out, and he isn't really interested in any of that, not that anyone is too surprised. He should go - he was the Captain, though the dynamic is different in an All-Star locker room than with a daily team. Shane stops grabbing his gear when he's approached, because Ilya is unpredictable. "I do. Even playing against you is more fun, actually." Not that he's ever admitted that aloud, and definitely not to Ilya. Fuck. He said too much. "Right, too comfortable. That's always my problem." The opposite, really, but the deadpan tone lends itself to a sarcastic tilt, at least one he thinks Ilya will recognize, after all these years of secret meetups.