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***mer*** · 06-30-2024, 10:13 PM

first part: here
yay happy pride woo

_X_

Aksel and Viktor go public by accident.

Aksel was filled with gay euphoria after one of their dates and taped his stick up with way too much rainbow tape. He scored the game winning goal and now he has to tape his stick with rainbow before every game. Sometimes when he’s really hungover and lazy it’ll be a stripe on the butt of the blade, and other times when he’s really feeling himself he’ll buy a separate roll of each color and get fancy.

It’s one of the fancy times, and the Rage have won, so Aksel got tasked with doing media even though he tried really hard to turtle into his gear and pretend he had no head and couldn’t talk.

“So, Aksel, we’ve noticed your stick.”

Aksel holds it out to his side, acting shocked. “Whoa, how’d that get there?” He gets polite laughter. He thrives on awkward polite laughter.

“You’ve been doing some interesting tape jobs! Tell us more about it!”

He spits out some PR jargon about inclusivity and getting the puck to the net. The PR people will be so proud. They practice the lines every week and Aksel has them pretty much memorized. His brain is completely on auto-pilot and he’s picturing his warm, inviting hotel bed and maybe some water with ice. Fancy. So he’s not at all paying attention to the next question.

“What about the handle? You’ve got blue, pink and white there. For your minors team, QCC?”

“No, that’s for my boyfriend.”

The media collectively stop breathing. Aksel goes wide-eyed. And then the PR people jump in.

“Aaaaand that’s enough questions thank you so much!” There’s some general clamoring as Aksel is hustled off stage.

“Dude,” PR friend #1 admonishes, “you gotta tell us this stuff.”

“Sorry, PR friend #1,” Aksel apologizes.

“Oh my god. Do you even know my name?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Aksel scrutinizes them. “Paul.”

“No.”

“Allison.”

“No.”

Aksel gets through thirty (30) other names before they get back to the locker room. Julie finally tells him her name and pronouns and Aksel promises her that he will forget them immediately and can she please email him that information with a picture of herself as well so he can put it on his Important Person Wall.

Aksel opens the locker room door as his phone lights up with an email notification from “PR Friend #1” and he steps inside.

He sees that in his absence, the team has divided itself into two groups: the people who know who Aksel is dating and the people who do not know and are trying to badger, bribe, and bully their way into that information.

“Uh, we can watch the end of his game together?” Aksel offers, and his teammates that he has not divulged secrets to settle down near him as he whips out his phone and locates the SFP game.

“You’re dating the enemy?” One of the wee Manhattan calves asks.

“Aren’t we all a tapestry of friends on the wall that is the SHL?” Aksel tries. He’s been playing hockey for so long because it’s fun for him, and he tries desperately to encourage his teammates to loosen up.

It never works.

Just when he’s about to catch heat, Hargreeves tips in an absolutely sick goal.

“Aw man, I hate that guy,” one of the rookies grits out, frowning severely when SFP’s star celebrates.

“Oh, hm.” Aksel wonders how he can put this delicately. “He’s the love of my life, I think, and I’m inviting him to team dinner next month.”

Kastrba pokes his head out of his away locker. “Oh cool, Viktor’s coming to end of season dinner?”

“I’m gonna ask him tonight!” Aksel replies, leaning around the teammates demanding to know why he’d pick SFP’s worst thorn in their side as his paramour.

He answers various questions in various levels of helpfulness, and the other Ragers stop pestering him once he starts getting more and more descriptive of Viktor’s great attributes. He’s three minutes into describing VIktor’s smile when Lambert lets him know that if he’s not on the bus in the next five minutes, they’re leaving without him.

The mood on the bus is contemplative, but not bad, and Aksel fields a few more questions that are more just about dating with their schedule that are much nicer to answer.

He gets back to his room and immediately calls Viktor.

“Hey!” Viktor’s cheerful sweaty smile fills the screen, because the man likes to hold his phone so close to his face for their calls.

“Hey! Did we want our relationship to be a secret? Please say no.”

The mood immediately shifts. “Why? What’s up?”

“I said I taped my stick up for my boyfriend,” Aksel pauses, “but I didn’t say who my boyfriend was. My entire team knows now, though.”

“Oh, let’s make that even.” Viktor holds his phone up to the locker room. “Hey guys! I’m dating Fiske!”

Aksel hears nearly identical complaints and groans that his teammates had responded with earlier today, and Viktor’s face comes back into focus.

“There. Now we’re official boyfriends.”

“Oh wow. Should I buy you a promise ring?”

“Why, what are you promising?”

Aksel thinks very hard. “I promise to always make fun of your hair when it gets too long. Like now. It’s all floppy.”

“You definitely cannot get me a ring for that.”

“Damn. What if it’s a promise to always support you?”

“Now you’re getting somewhere.” Viktor grins as he sets his phone down to remove his jersey and gear.

“Come to the Manhattan team dinner next month?”

Viktor freezes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I wear a purple tie?”

“Absolutely not.”

Viktor’s phone is snatched out of his hand by a tired teammate who wants everyone to hurry up so they can go home, and Aksel tells the locker room that he loves Viktor and wishes everyone a good night. After playful complaints from the team, Viktor manages to get his phone back and tells Aksel, “good night, old man,” and hangs up.

After a very lovely team dinner, Aksel doesn’t get to see Viktor again in person until the all-star game, and he spends most of the time staring morosely across the ice at Viktor’s team, and manages to look so pathetic and sad that the all-star crew gives Aksel and Viktor a suite in the hotel to share.

Viktor congratulates Aksel on weaponizing his pathetic face, and falls asleep while Aksel orders room service.

Aksel decides that night that he isn’t satisfied just being Viktor’s boyfriend.

It takes him the whole rest of the season, and many international phone calls to set it up. He locates a weekend on the schedule where Viktor plays MAN at home, and has a day afterwards to spend together.

He starts counting down the days to that weekend, and is so jittery during the game that multiple players have to hold their hands down on his thighs while they’re on the bench so that the whole structure doesn’t shake. When they lose - but it’s a good loss, hard fought and not by a wide margin - Aksel zips out of the locker room while telling everyone they did so, so well, and flies toward the away locker room.

He knocks a bunch of times, then throws the door open. SFP players level him with harsh glares but they slide off Aksel like butter as he plasters himself to Viktor’s sweaty side.

“Oof. Hi.”

“Do you trust me?”

Viktor gives him the look that Aksel has learned means he’s asked a stupid question.

“Get dressed and follow me.” He zips back out of the locker room before sweaty jerseys are thrown at him, but manages to get caught by a sweaty sock right at the door. He tosses the clothing back inside, shouts, “GOOD GAME!” and then he waits.

Viktor’s the first out, looking excited. “Okay, what’s the adventure?”

“How do you know it’s an adventure?”

“You get jittery when you have big plans.”

“Ah. The mortifying ordeal of being known. Grab my hand and follow me.” Aksel waits until his hand is grabbed, and then leads Viktor out of the building. They greet every crew member they run into, then duck into a waiting cab.

“Did I need anything? I have my carry on bag and that’s it.”

Aksel considers this question. “Do you have your passport?”

Viktor’s eyebrows sky rocket. “Oh, this is an adventure. Yes, I have it.”

“Excellent.”

Aksel has been to JFP many times by now, knows it and some of the workers very well. They get onto their flight without a hitch and are in their seats, buckled, when Aksel realizes he’s forgotten a crucial detail.

“Permission to ruin surprise slightly.”

Viktor is wary of surprises. “Granted.”

“Our stance on marriage is positive, correct?”

“Affirmative.” Viktor bursts into laughter. “Oh my god. Wait, this is so funny.”

Aksel frowns.

“No, no. I- oh. You’ll see.”

Ominous. Aksel wants to badger him into divulging more, but then Viktor finds a silly romcom on his seat screen and offers Aksel an earbud. They watch a couple fight, then kiss, then fight, then kiss, then sing a song together, and right when they kiss, the pilot announces they’ll be landing in Québec City.

Viktor laughs. “Oh my god. Yeah, no. This is hilarious.”

Aksel’s frown is causing permanent facial lines. As soon as they land, he pulls out his phone (it had been on airplane mode the whole flight, he’s a rule follower) and texts a group chat.

Viktor is prone to giggles when sleep deprived, and is noodlier than usual as Aksel drags him off the plane and into another cab as they head to another arena.

The Citadelles arena is mostly empty, but has a few skeleton crew around. Aksel accepts skates from one of the crew and hands another pair to Viktor, who gives him a peck on the cheek between giggles as they lace up.

The ice is freshly cleaned and well lit. Aksel steps onto the sheet and for a moment, his body is old and damaged, and young and new. The memory of his first season on this ice fills his bones and causes a tremor through hands.

“We never played here together.” He spins to face Viktor, skating slowly backwards. “I thought it would be fun to have a moment on the ice together.”

Viktor is sharing a similar moment, Aksel thinks, the man’s eyes are wide and he’s taking in the arena. He was here much more recently than Aksel, and his name is up in the rafters, forever a Citadelles legend on the S69 Four Star Cup roster, but they both share this place.

“Race you,” Viktor whispers, then takes off.

Aksel complains nastily in Norwegian to try and throw VIktor off, and of course he’s no match for one of the league’s best players. He’s good at playing to his skills though, and so he changes gears and skates backwards into Viktor, checking lightly so they’re both sent sprawling, legs tangled but skates safely pointed away. They slide across the rink and end up almost perfectly at center ice.

Aksel will take that as his sign.

He helps a grinning Viktor up, then immediately drops down (slowly, minding his injuries) onto one knee. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small blue box he’d been worrying all night.

“Viktor Hargreeves. Ever since I saw the video of you crying at your J draft-”

“No one will let me live that down.”

“-I knew you were special. But I didn’t know how special you’d be to me until we met at that night club and I didn’t recognize you because you got so old-”

“Hey.”

“-and matured so fast. It’s been an amazing two years with you. I’ve been thinking hard about this. Lind just hit a thousand points, and he’s the closest in age to me on the team. I’m not getting any younger, and while I’d love to play hockey forever, I’d love to cement a future with you even more. Viktor Hargreeves, biggest pest on the ice, brightest light in my life, will you marry me?” He opens the box and displays the simple gem ring he’d agonized for months over.

“No way.”

Aksel blanches. “Hva?”

“Oh man I shocked you Norwegian. Sorry. That’s not a no. It’s. Here, stand up.” He grabs Aksel’s elbows and pulls him up. He lifts a finger and raises it, and Aksel turns his head at the wrong moment and Viktor’s finger goes right into his eye. “Oh jeez, sorry, I was trying to boop your nose to set you at ease-”

“You poked me in the eye.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m gonna be blind. And heartbroken.”

“You’re being dramatic. Here.” Viktor drops onto one knee himself. It’s much more fast and fluid, he’s still young. “Aksel Fiske, you were first someone I looked up to, and then someone that I looked down to. Because you’re short-”

“You’re making me feel worse.”

“-in stature but large in everything else. You left your mark on QCC and I couldn’t wait to play against you and other alumnus in the big leagues. I don’t know if you remember the first time we played each other, but you snatched the puck off my stick so fast. Right in the first period. I wasn’t even mad, just amazed, and kind of honored that I’d been able to play with you-”

“God I really am so much older than you.”

“-and then we met off the ice. And I realized you’re not just this amazing player, you’re also goofy and stupid and you’re fun to be with. I love being with you. I never want you to retire, but you do talk about it more and more. I want you to know that as long as you want it, you’ll always have a home with me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box.

Aksel blinks. “Oh.”

“Aksel Fiske, will you make me the happiest man in the world -”

“Happier than winning the cup?”

Viktor gives him the stupid look again. “Uh. Yeah, dude, way happier.”

“Holy shit.”

“Just say yes.”

“Yes! You had that in your pocket this whole time? For how long?” Aksel asks as Vikor takes the ring out and works it onto his left hand.

“Honestly? I bought it when the season started.”

Aksel looks at him, speechless, then throws himself into Viktor’s arms and kisses him so hard that his lips go numb. It’s a horrible kiss, but he’s so happy and his boyfriend - fiance - future husband wants to be with him.

“Give me my ring, old man,” Viktor demands, and Aksel grumbles as he obediently gets out the ring and slides it delicately onto Viktor’s hand. It fits perfectly.

Cheers break out and the pair turn to see the arena staff standing by the zamboni. They skate over and accept congratulations and gentle pleas to leave so everyone can go home. Aksel and Viktor return their skates, catching glances at each other’s rings whenever they think the other isn’t looking, and then link their hands together as they leave.

Aksel has a room for them at a nearby hotel, where his family would stay when they visited. There’s champagne already in the room, and they pour a glass each then call family and friends to share the news.

***Seany148*** · 06-30-2024, 10:16 PM

Help, I've been reincarnated as PR Friend#1!

Code:
“Dude,” PR friend #1 admonishes, “you gotta tell us this stuff.”

“Sorry, PR friend #1,” Aksel apologizes.

skyrrhawk · 06-30-2024, 10:22 PM

[inhales] GAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY

Evok · 07-01-2024, 12:43 AM

I cant believe Viktor straight up lied to Aksel like this, aint no way this better than winning the cup in qcc. Its a close 2nd though

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