Title: Always something there to remind me
Pairing Todd / Owen (Sharks hockey fic)
Disclaimer Fiction means this is made up.
Sometimes Owen would wake up and find Todd asleep in
an unexpected part of his house.
Not that he ever expects to find Todd asleep in any part of his house. But, for a few Sunday mornings in
a row he would stumble to the bathroom cursing aloud like I need to get a
fucking ensuite and Todd would be
sprawled on his back covering the bed in the spare room, slack jawed and maybe
snoring.
And one time, the morning after a night out drinking,
Todd was folded into his armchair in a display of intricate origami. Owen
doesn't say much about either visitation. DoesnŐt even wake Todd, but finds
himself being excessively quiet and tip toeing around the other man.
Todd will wake up by degrees. Owen will look up from
the newspaper feeling half opened eyes looking at him. And Todd will crook an
eyebrow and shuffle for the coffee and lurk - lazy limbed and shambling -
around Owen's house for a few hours.
Just as suddenly Owen will turn around and Todd is
gone. He breathes out, or maybe the house does. The air around him expands out
to fill the new space.
Once Owen had been to Todd's. It was up fifteen
flights and was all pizza cartons and empty Pepsi cans on the table and
spilling out of the garbage.
He doesn't give Todd a key, but makes no secret of the
spare one under the planter on the back step.
Owen doesnŐt say anything about finding Todd spread
out over two loungers by the pool getting sunscreen fingerprints over his
Sports Illustrated. Just takes the trash out more frequently to cope with the
empties and keeps cheese singles and milk in the fridge. Also, he doesn't
comment on the fresh coffee on the bench almost every morning now, or the cable
selection, or the newspaper subscription.
Silence serves him at night when he feels Todd leaning
against the wall by his room. He doesnŐt say anything at training the next day,
but that night leaves the door to his bedroom open.
It's the next morning when Todd is there. His skin
slightly chilled and he crawls across the bottom of the bed, a cat finally
coming home after dawn, and it's nothing quite like Owen would have expected.
If he was expecting anything. Half awake the rasp of his beard against the
stubble on Todd's chin and the cloying feeling of cream and coffee on his lips.
And both their names mumbled once to the room between the sounds of rusting
sheets and whispered – once, but clearly- once to each other.
