Rating: PG-13
Original Date of Completion: April 2003
Pairing: Boyd Devereaux/Mathieu Dandenault
Disclaimer: I don't own them. This is fake, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. So please, no suing. The song featured in here is called "That's My Desire" by Patsy Cline, and it is used without permission.
Notes: This particular fic takes place at some point in the in the 2006-2007 season. I think that is all the major stuff that you need to know for this, a lot of it is explained in the fic itself.
********************
I wince at the sound of the whistle, and slowly pull myself up from the ice. Glancing around me I realize that I slid a lot further that I figured, enough to make it into the net. Hey, at least I scored. Though Ryan looks less than amused at being taken out. I smile sheepishly at him, and he just rolls his eyes, pushing me in the direction of the bench. Slowly, I make the dreaded skate toward the bench where Megan stands, waiting for all of us to converge. I know she's going to chew me a new one today, and I deserve it. This was my worst practice in a while. I just couldn’t concentrate, my mind was anywhere but on the ice. The anticipation of tonight was all consuming. I tried to focus and not get ahead of myself, after all we still had practice and a game to get through. I just couldn't do it though, I was too damned excited to see him...
"Boyd!" Megan yells and I wince, realizing I was daydreaming. Like a scolded child, I slowly lift my eyes to look at her. She looks less amused than Ryan had, and I fear briefly for my life. "Thank you for paying attention, glad to see you can do that at least one place today,"
"Sorry," I mumble, looking back down at the ice.
"You should be," She replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "If you had done that shit out there during the game, you’d be Penguin food,"
I giggle despite myself and glance up at her with a smile. That's Megan for you, cracking a joke in the middle of yelling at you. That is why she's the coolest coach ever.
"I'm sure there is at least one Penguin he wouldn't mind eating him," Cheli laughed, flashing an evil smirk at me.
I blush furiously and look away; that is why he is the most annoying assistant coach ever. He played with a lot of us, so he never hesitates to crack on us. And he roomed with Dandy after Hully retired, so he knew all about us. The two of them had stayed friends throughout the years, so Cheli had come to know what it meant every time the Pens were here in Detroit. And he never missed an opportunity to remind me that he knew. Sometimes I think he came back to be a D-coach after he retired just to hold the power of embarrassment over us. It didn't phase most by this point. But me, I blushed like a little kid every time. That made him enjoy it all the more. You'd think after this many years I'd be able to handle when people picked at me about Dandy, but I just couldn't. I don't know why. I guess it was just one of those things that was, without explanation.
It'll be four years soon that we've been doing this. It's hard to believe it's been that long. The day he was traded is one of the clearer memories in my life. Probably because that was one of the worst things I'd ever dealt with. We had been together for almost two years by that point, really from right after I got to Detroit. Things had been so perfect for us up until that day, both in our careers and in our relationship. At the time I didn't think anything could mess us up. But then came the most dreaded day in all of hockey. The Trade Deadline.
Every year I'd been here, his name had been mentioned in trade rumors. But nothing ever came of it. The first year I was here, Max and Jesse went, to Minnesota and Buffalo respectively. The next year it was Freddie to Boston, in a move that we thought shored up the defense. Nick and Anthony were the top two, with Fishy, Andy, Mathieu and Nikos rounding things out. We were the best defensive team in the league that year, it would've been stupid of us to think they'd actually make a change before playoffs. So we just went about our perfect lives, treating the Trade Deadline like any other day.
It wasn't just any other day though, unfortunately. It was the end. There's no hockey player on Earth that wants their phone to ring on Deadline day, everyone knows what that signals. Mathieu's phone rang that day, and as we listened to the shrill screaming of his cordless, I think both of us knew what was going to happen. It only took him answering the phone to confirm our thoughts. Traded, to Pittsburgh, with one of the minor league guys, for Jamie Pushor, Ian Moran and draft picks. Moran and the picks went straight to St. Louis, along with cash, for Al MacInnis. Come playoff time, Pushor and Al would be rounding out our now shored up defense, while Nikos was pressed boxed and Dandy was an Ice Chicken.
I could feel my heart break that day, and for a brief time I wanted to just quit hockey and go live in Pittsburgh with him. I could easily adopt some Lemieux love, as long as it meant I got to be with Mathieu. But, I knew that wasn't really an option. And I knew Mathieu wouldn't have really wanted that. The only thing I didn't know was how I'd survive without him. I'd never had to do it since I got to Detroit. I'd become so dependant on him while I’d been there, I wasn't sure I could handle it on my own again. I almost wished that day that Dallas Drake had ended my career, so at least then I wouldn't have to be dealing with all of that stuff. I knew deep down somewhere, that Mathieu was worth all the crap. But at that point in time, losing him was the end of the world.
Fortunately, like I said earlier, I have the coolest coach in the World. She plays dumb a lot of times, but she knows all about the various relationships between members of this team. Dandy and I were no exception. She was the first person to call me after we found out about the trade. At the time I didn't want to talk to her; I actually hung up on her, which is never a smart thing to do to your coach. She let it slide though; she just called me into her office the next day and made me spill everything. I was hesitant to, unsure then how she would really react to it all. But then she told me the story of her and Brody Alastair.
They met when she was working in Calgary, first as the athletic trainer, then after the coaching strike, as coach. Over the time she was trainer, they fell for each other. Then she became coach. It was a major strain on their relationship, but they fought through it, and eventually everything turned out okay. They won a Cup together that year, with her behind the bench and him wearing the C. Everything was perfect for them for that time. Then he got traded, along with almost every player that won the Cup that year. That was when she quit and came here to Detroit. They were closer that way, but it was still a huge separation; East/West teams, like Dandy and I were going to be. She never lied to me and told me it was easy. But that's the way Megan is, always with the truth. She told me the truth, it was hard, and painful, and there were times when she wanted to give up. But she always kept fighting, because the love was worth it. Then she asked me if I thought what Dandy and I had was worth it. I didn't even have to hesitate to say yes.
I left her office that day with a smile on my face. All of us had always had a strong relationship with Megan (except Adam Deadmarsh, but that's another story), but I felt our's got a little stronger that day. She really helped me through the next couple months learning to live without him. We didn't become like close friends or anything, she was still the coach, but she looked out for me during that time. I had the rest of the guys, other friends I could turn to, but none of them understood what I was going through. Megan did, and I was more than thankful to have her around during that time.
That June, we played Pittsburgh for the Cup, so Dandy and I got some extra time to be together. We both got our names on the Cup that year, even though he was traded at the deadline. That was probably the best summer of my life. We were together the entire time, we had 4 days combined with the Cup, it was amazing. We never once talked about the fact that come training camp we'd be hundreds of miles away from each other again. We treated that entire summer like the trade had never happened, like he was still a Red Wing. It was easy to do since he'd won the Cup too. But once training camp rolled around, reality set in. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but we swallowed it. We spent our last night together that summer curled up beneath the stars at Iriquoi Pointe, where we'd be meeting tonight. That night was the sweetest, most passionate, beautiful night we'd ever spent together; which was fitting, because it was essentially our last hurrah.
We tried to make it work, oh how we tried, but we couldn't handle it. The separation was too much for us to deal with. Our teams and careers were heading in different directions, and that created nothing but resentment and frustration. We talked every night, and nearly every conversation resulted in an argument. Then one night, it just ended. We were talking for the first time in like two weeks, and it was a normal, friendly conversation. Then out of nowhere he asked "It's over, isn't it?" I didn't even have to think hard to answer, I just knew. It was over, we were over. It was a heartbreaking thought, but it never broke my heart. I knew I wasn't losing him from my life, we just weren't going to be together in that way. I knew I still loved him, and that he loved me. We just weren't right for that time. Neither of us dismissed the possibility that we could get back together in the future. We just decided for then, we needed the break.
It was kind of hard to be upset about everything when looking at things like that. There was still a grieving period, though it didn't last long for either of us. Andy introduced him to people in Pittsburgh, and he got a life, so to speak. So since he had one, I got one too, finding my way into a group with Andy, Anthony, Danny, Wade, and really all the new guys that came in that year. We had a lot of fun together, be it bumper bowling, playing our Danielsgasm drinking game, selling Cookie's underwear to puckbunnies, or ruthlessly mocking Andy and Anthony for being so pathetically cute. There was never a dull moment with them. But no matter how much fun I had with them, I never felt quite right. I missed Mathieu, as much as I didn't want to think I did. I wouldn't admit it at first. I just kept telling myself I still wasn’t used to him being gone, even as the trade anniversary approached a year. Then I tried telling myself that it was watching Andy and Anthony making me lonesome, and leaving me longing for him. Finally, I just told myself that I missed him, and to stop being stupid and call him.
That was when our tradition started. When I called him, the first thing I said, after asking how things were going for him over there, was that I missed him. He sighed, and tried to dodge around the subject, but I wouldn't let him. I had to know if he missed me too. So I asked him, and he said yes. We spent the next two hours of that conversation saying how much we missed each other, how things weren't the same, and how badly we wanted to see each other. It was decided that night that we were going to get together when they were in Detroit next, which thankfully from then wasn't that long of a wait. We decided that night on dinner and a movie. But when the time finally came, we wound up somehow at Iriquoi Pointe, and just like our last summer together, it was simply amazing.
That night a tradition was born, a tradition I looked forward to every year. Every single time it seemed to get better, which was why when the time came for it every year I got distracted like I did today, and wound up playing bowling for goalies, endured another round of taunting from the coaches, or in the case of last year, wound up with Cookie's jock on my head. Please, don’t ask...
"Pay attention, stupid," Anthony whispered, tapping me in the back of the leg with his stick.
I shake myself from my thoughts, immediately glancing back up at the bench. The coaches had thankfully moved on from me, all I needed was for Luc and Cheli to start the fake making out they did last year on his day. I didn't stop blushing until well after the game. Probably because every time I came back from a shift, if Dandy was on the ice with me, one of them would start making ridiculous kissy faces at me. I really wished at times that the cameras would shoot the bench and catch them. But it's probably better that they didn't, because then they would've caught me blushing. And that wouldn’t have been fun trying to explain that to people. There really aren't a lot of reasons to blush during a hockey game.
"That's what I expect from you guys tonight," Megan said as she stepped down from the bench. "Their power play is on fire right now, so I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Take a stupid penalty, and I will inflict great pain on you all. Now have a nice day,"
She smiled, slipping her pen into her clipboard, then turned and walked back to the room. The group of us quickly disbanded, some skating back onto the ice, but most heading back to the room. I thought for a second about going out for more practice, lord knows I need it with the show I put on today, but I decided against it when I saw Cujo and Ryan standing at the net. That meant goalie practice, and that was not something I cared to be involved in ever again. They probably wouldn't want me anyway, I don't have the most accurate shot in the world. But hey, when push came to shove, I still had 16 goals on the season, with another month left to get my fifth consecutive 20-goal season. I think that's pretty good for a guy no one ever expected to get more than ten.
Hell, I don't think I ever expected to get more than ten. I had very low expectations of myself, that way I was less disappointed when things turned out bad, and happily surprised when they turned out good. It was a good system I had going. But then came Megan, and all that changed. SHE had high expectations of me, and she wouldn't tolerate any less. I pushed myself harder than I ever had that first year, mainly because I was scared to death of what she might do to me. But it all worked out in the end, I finished with a career high 22 goals, 31 assists, in all 82 games for the first time in my career. It was quite the unexpected year. But there was one thing all of us learned pretty quickly about Megan as a coach, and that was to expect the unexpected. You were never quite sure what she would do...
"Boyd," Megan's voice sounds from behind me, yanking me from my thoughts.
I turn back to her and smile, arching a quick questioning eyebrow. "What's up, Meg?"
"Gabby's knee is acting up again, he can't go. You're with Huds and Malts tonight. Enjoy the first line."
With that, she turned and walked back to the room, leaving me alone with my shock. How's THAT for unexpected? I knew Gabby's knee was bothering him again, but I didn't think for a sec that I would be the one to take his place. I was third line, second at best. Very rarely did I make the first, except for like, line changes and stuff when I was out there with them. Or in the odd occasions when someone shut them down, and Megan broke then lines up to get Gabby or Huds away from the oppositions top-D. I don't think I'd ever actually STARTED a game on the first line. My goalie bowling must’ve been more impressive than I thought...
Or I was being punished for a shitty practice by being put on a line Dandy was sure to defend against. Damn. I really hope we don't make them look bad out there; Malts and Huds have a way of doing that to people. Worse yet, I really hope I don't score a goal on him, he might take the minus personally. Although, it has been a while since I've got one, so I might not really care...
* * *
Well, I didn't get a goal against him. I did get a couple of assists though, both on Huds' goals. I'm surprised I was able to do a whole lot of anything when he was on the ice. Every shift we were out there together he spent it trailing me around, saying some very inappropriate things, and grinning at me. I spent most of the game blushing on the bench and avoiding eye contact with either of my assistant coaches. It worked for the most part. They didn’t get me until the game was over, and we were back in the room celebrating our 3-1 victory. By then though I could just ignore them and hide in the showers. Luckily they weren't feeling particularly ruthless today, so that plan actually worked. I was able to shower, change, and get out of there without having to deal with them again. Not that I would've really cared much by this point anyway. In less than an hour I would be wrapped up in Mathieu's arms; there wasn't anything I wouldn't endure to get that. It was just too damned good of a feeling to go without.
That would be why I drove admittedly like a maniac to get to Iriquoi Pointe. I knew Dandy wouldn't be there yet, he had to pass room inspection at the hotel before he could go. I just wanted to be there, to know that it was actually going to happen, tonight was the night, and nothing was going to get in the way of it. And, getting there early gave me time to set up; though not much time was needed to lay a blanket on the ground and set a picnic basket on it. Nonetheless, I liked having things all set and ready for him when he got here. It was part of the tradition of being here, I guess. Even that last summer we'd spent together, when we'd wound up here, I was the one that set things up. It was my blanket, my picnic basket, and the headlights of my Jeep that chased away the darkness. Every time since then it had been my blanket and my picnic basket. The only difference now, the headlights were gone, replaced by strings of patio lights provided by the lovely city of Detroit.
With the exception of the lights, everything about this day every year was the same as it always was. I got here first, set things up, then waited for him on the hood of my Jeep, staring up at the stars. Every time the same memory would run through my head, the first night here. We made love for hours that night, then curled up together and looked at the stars. I remember it so vividly. I was cuddled up on his chest, and he was petting my hair. We were just laying in silence, enjoying each other, when he started talking. He was trying to sound smart, picking random stars in the sky and telling me what constellation they were. I didn't have the heart to tell him most of the ones he named weren't visible from our hemisphere. He just sounded so cute, trying to be all smart and impressive. I think he knew I knew he was full of it, but he just kept on talking. Eventually, he must've ran out of constellations he knew...
~ ~ ~
"You see that star right there?" He asked, pointing at the North Star, visible just barely above the trees.
I placed a soft kiss to his chest. "North Star," I grunted, nodding against him.
"Nope," He kissed the top of my head. "That's the Boyd Star," He said matter-of-factly, hugging me tightly to him.
I giggled and pushed myself up from his chest. I stared down at him, grinning goofily, then kissed him softly. The kiss lasted only seconds, a brief meeting of lips, before he pulled away and continued his explanation.
"Do you know WHY it's the Boyd Star?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. I shook my head. "Because it's the biggest, shiniest...
~ ~ ~
...brightest, most beautiful star in all the galaxy,"
My head snapped to the side in an instant, and my eyes connected with those of Mathieu. I could see his smile through the darkness, his eyes twinkling as he walked slowly toward me. Pulling myself up quickly to a sitting position, I slid off the hood of my car, leaning back against it to wait for him. It took only five more steps, and his lips were on mine. I melted immediately into the kiss, slipping my arms around his neck and almost pushing his lips more onto mine. He gasped into the kiss, and I took that opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth. Softly our tongues clashed, the gentle touch sending chills down my spine. I shivered as his tongue tickled against the roof of my mouth, and slipping my arms around his back, leaned into him. I felt him smile into this kiss, then felt his lips leave mine. I sighed at the loss, until his lips pressed against my forehead and he spoke.
"God, I've missed you so much," He murmured, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
I sighed and hugged him tightly, resting my head against his neck. "I missed you, too. I've been counting down to this day for a month now,"
He laughed softly, pressing his lips to my temple. "Didn't you have better things to do, Mr. First Line?"
"Nope," I replied, nuzzling his neck. "There's nothing better than you,"
I felt him sigh against my ear, and gently he pushed me away. I looked at him in confusion, trying to gauge the look in his eyes. They were swirled with emotion, no clear feeling visible. He smiled weakly at my confusion, grazing his hand softly against my cheek. I smiled and turned into the touch, softly kissing the palm of his hand. That earned me another sigh, and his eyes cleared, leaving just one emotion to see. Sadness.
"Boyd..." He started, his voice low, and heavy with sadness.
As I gazed into his eyes, I knew what he was going to say. The same thing that was said every time we got together, by one of us. "It just won't work. We're too far apart. It's not fair to either of us." I knew the drill quite well, I'd said it myself a few times. This time was different, though. I didn't want to hear it this time. I didn't want to hear him tell me that it wouldn't work, that it wasn't fair, or worse yet, that he didn't want it. I'd heard it all before, and I'd learned to accept it. But this time....I don't think I could. After that kiss, and after every memory I've run through in my head in the past month while waiting for this day, I couldn't handle him saying it wouldn't work. I didn't really care if it wouldn't work, I still wanted it. But I knew that he didn't. And as much as it kills me, I accept that. I just don't want to hear it for certain, so at least then I can cling to a tiny bit of hope that maybe one day he'll want it too.
"Shh," I whispered, pressing my finger to his lips. "Let's not talk,"
He smiled sadly and nodded his head. "But what else do we do then?"
"Dance," I replied with a smile.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled my car remote from it and pointed it behind me. The radio turned on with a beep, signaling to me it had lost the signal to whatever station I'd had it on. I wasn't the least bit surprised. It was nearly impossible to pick up radio stations this far out. The only station I could ever get out here was Oldies Country, which in this case would just have to work. Dancing provided the perfect distraction away from the unpleasant things that were sure to come. And it furnished a perfect excuse for me to melt into his arms. So pressing 'scan' on the remote, I waited for the radio to find the station. It worked in static, the occasional word audible, until that same Oldies Country station came in, just at the beginning of a song.
"By request, this is Patsy Cline with "That's My Desire." The DJ spoke, his voice fading momentarily in static.
"Patsy Cline?" Mathieu asked as he stepped closer to me, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me toward him. "Don't you think this is a little too gay?"
I giggled and shook my head, placing a soft kiss to his lips. "Just shut up and dance with me,"
He nodded in silence, laying his head on my shoulder. I slipped my arms around him, nestling one in his hair and resting the other at the small of his back. I felt him sigh against my neck, kissing at it gently as we began to sway together as the music started.
As I listened to those first lyrics, I felt a smile come to my face. If ever there was a perfect song, that was it for this moment. Very seldom (read: never) did a song like that speak to me, but this one did. It was so very true for me right now. To spend a night with him here, at this place, and reminisce about the past, and be together like this, that was what I wanted. I wanted more, but I knew I couldn't have that. So I settled on this, which was still pretty damned cool. If I had to have a second option on the thing wanted, I couldn't pick anything better than this. Just being this close to him was simply amazing. Add to that he's been kissing my neck since the song started, and he's a really good dancer, and you've got one happy Boyd.
I had to smile again as I took those lyrics in. They spoke less to the situation than the first ones did, but they still spoke to me. Staring into his eyes was one of my favorite past times. And doing it here made it all the more better, because usually when I did it, it was with him inside me, with the stars twinkling and the moon shining above him. It was one of the more incredible things I've ever experienced in my life. I don't know if I'd call his eyes divine (I don't know if I even know what that means, really), but I would call them incredibly beautiful. As for the feeling his lips on mine, we've already covered tonight how amazing that is. And everything else...well...that didn't really happen. We had Molson, not wine. And it was never whispering when it was time to go. It was crying, murmuring, sniffling...
...Sniffling.
"Mathieu?" I whispered. "Are you okay?"
He sniffled again, and I felt him shake his head against my neck. "No, I'm not,"
Reluctantly, I separated our embrace. As my eyes connected with his, my heart dropped. His face was stained with tears, the tiny droplets glowing in the moonlight. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, and his chin quivered as he stared at me. My pulse began to race, my mind creating reason after reason for his state with each beat of my heart. Every one it provided was one I didn't want to hear, and as much as I didn't want to, I felt tears slipping from my eyes. I knew I was just being paranoid, he could be crying for any number of reasons. But my mind could give me nothing but the bad reasons; he was crying because he wanted to end this, he had found someone else, he just didn't want to see me anymore. Each of those thoughts scared me half to death. But I couldn't go on staring at him like this without knowing what was making him that way, just in case it was something I could make better.
"What's wrong?" I asked softly, brushing away a tear from his cheek with my thumb.
He stared into my eyes for a brief moment, then dropped his gaze to the ground with a broken sob. "I love you so much, Boyd,"
I bit back a sob of my own, stepping closer to him and grabbing his hands in mine. "And that makes you cry?" I asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer.
"Yes," He replied, lifting his eyes back to look at me. "Because I know that I can't have you again. And that's all I want. That's MY desire, like the stupid song said," He cried softly, waving his hand toward the car.
I froze as he finished, staring him straight in the eye as I struggled to make sense of what he'd just said. He wanted me. He wanted me back again. Wow. And here I thought I was being stupid for wanting him again. I didn't think for a second that he might want the same thing. But he did. He wanted to be with me again. He still loved me. I mean, I knew he did, but he said it for sure this time. He loved me, and he wanted to be with me again. That was his desire, like the stupid song said. But he thought...why would he think that he couldn't have me? And wait, why do I care that he thought that? I love him too. I want him too. That's my REAL desire. So why am I standing here just staring at him and not saying anything, and thinking to myself like a big idiot? I'm reverting back to my 20's self, someone slap me.
"God, Mathieu," I wailed, bursting into tears. "That's all I want. I just want to be with you again. I don't care about the distance, I don't care that we'll have to go months without seeing each other. I just want you."
Not another word needed to be spoken, as he stepped forward and collapsed into my arms with a sob. I hugged him tightly to me, rubbing my hands comfortingly along his back. My own tears continued to flow, but they weren't the vocal sobs he was producing. They were silent, happy tears. Tears of joy, of having the one thing I'd really wanted over the last four years finally come true. I had the Cups, I had the fame, I had the money. But none of those things made me whole. There was a part of me missing, that only Mathieu could fill. And now that I had him again, my life was finally complete.
When I was younger, the only thing I wanted was to play hockey. My one true desire in life back then was to win the Stanley Cup. I'd done that in only the fifth year of my career, at the ripe old age of 24. So my desire became then to become the player that everyone thought I should be, to score the goals, to get the points, to claim a permanent spot in the lineup. I did that in my sixth season for the first time, at the ripe old age of 25. Now, in my tenth season, at the just plain old age of 29, I was en route to my fifth consecutive 20-goal season. I had achieved everything I'd ever desired when it came to hockey. So now I suppose it was time for my life desires to kick in. But really, the only one of those I ever had was wrapped up in my arms right now. I'd achieved everything that I had ever desired. I guess that makes my life pretty perfect, huh? I've certainly got no complaints, not anymore. I was whole again. With Mathieu came that feeling of completeness I'd sought so badly. For the first time in a LONG time, I was truly happy. And I guess when I think about it, THAT was my true desire. And now that I have it, there is no way in Hell I am ever letting go again.
THE END