Rinoa
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"I don't get it," Sharpy says.
Kaner huffs. "Just deliver it to Jonny, okay? You can leave it on his pillow or whatever. Just... he just needs to get it."
"I still don't get it. Last time, you guys rode in the same cab to the gold medal game, and this time," Sharpy pauses to wiggle the envelope in front of Kaner's face, "you can't even meet up with him long enough to give him a letter?"
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Settling his grip just above the muted curve of Bitty's hips, Jack squeezes. "Better."
Bitty coughs out a laugh. "Glad you're satisfied."
"Almost satisfied," Jack says. "I still have my shirt and socks on."
"Good," Bitty says, and he leans to press them together, forehead to forehead, chest to chest with only cotton worn thin between them. "I like you like this. It's cute."
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A test, Galmar decided. To prove he was more than he appeared to be, to prove he wasn't a milkdrinker with foolish dreams of glory, to prove he deserved to be a Stormcloak.
They sent him out under orders to go far north, above Winterhold, and to kill an ice wraith and bring back its essence. Jon nodded slowly and swallowed his tongue. This wasn't how he thought enlisting would go. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he would be capable of the task they'd asked of him.
It was the first time Jon had ever failed at something he really wanted, and it was all the thief's fault.
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"I," Jonny says, and he slips his headset up from around his neck to nestle over his ears, "am not an actor."
"Good thing I don't need you to act."
"No."
"Jonny."
"Patrick."
"Please?" Kaner cants forward and tilts his face up to blink at Jonny. In the fluttering light that filters in from the stage, his eyes look unnaturally pale. "Just read the lines, okay? I want to see how well I've memorized them."
Jonny scrubs a hand over his face. The motion knocks his mike askew. "One scene."
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He really takes in Jonny's outfit for the first time; his jeans are crisp with no tears, and in the unzipped vee of his fleece, Kaner can see the folded collar of a button up shirt snug against Jonny's throat. It doesn't mesh with anything he knows, not the Jonny he plays video games with, not the Jonny who goes out with him and the rest of the guys, and definitely not the Jonny he strips down and sucks kisses onto until they both bruise.
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The goalie’s the one who stands up first.
It’s always the fucking goalies.Bookmarked by kiwoa (Rinoa)
05 May 2021