kathierif_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kathierif_fic) wrote2009-10-29 12:20 am
kathierif_fic) wrote2009-10-29 12:20 am
Fic: Skin And Bones (3/5) (RPS: Henrik Zetterberg/Ryan Miller, FRAO)
Title: Skin and Bones. (3/5)
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Hockey/NHL (Detroit Red Wings, Buffalo Sabres)
Current Word Count: 19,383
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: This is absolutely not true. The names of real people have been used, but this is just my imagination and done with lots of adoration and love for the guys and my mind isn’t affiliated with them anyways. The chapters are named after songs that don’t belong to me either.
Pairings: Henrik Zetterberg/Ryan Miller, Steve Yzerman/Tomas Holmstrom/Nick Lidstrom/Chris Osgood/Brendan Shanahan and Henrik Zetterberg/Pavel Datsyuk in the background
Warnings: slash, supernatural things, real people
Summary: Adulthood, mates, packs, the life of a werewolf is never boring
Author’s Notes: My neverending thank you goes to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nerfgunqueen and mer5, who checked this over for me, and especially Ginny, who held my hand while helping me getting this thing in order, including the summary. Also to chosenfire28 for the artwork, thank you so much!
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
III. Chapter 3: With A Little Help From My Friends.
Hank bumped into Homer and would have fallen if the older man hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did and reached out to steady him.
“You okay?” Homer asked quietly. “You’re not very much concentrating, Hank.”
Hank blushed. “I know,” he muttered. “Sorry.”
Homer frowned. “It’s okay,” he waved Hank’s apology off. “Better tell me what has you so distracted.”
Hank sighed and poked at a puck with the tip of his skate. “Not here,” he tried to evade. “Too many people.”
Homer narrowed his eyes slightly. “Is this a guy issue or a moon issue?” he whispered.
Hank squirmed slightly. “Both, I think,” he confessed. “I don’t know what to do.”
Homer stared at him for a second longer before coming to a decision. “Come on,” he said and, grabbing his arm, began to pull Hank toward the dressing room.
“Hey!” Hank protested, but a quiet growl quickly made him shut up. He didn’t want to risk annoying Homer; besides, he really could use some advice.
Mike gave him a puzzled frown as Homer pushed an unresisting Hank past him. “For sure, he….he pulled his groin, coach,” the older Swede quickly said. “Won’t take long.”
He didn’t wait for a comment as he nudged Hank in the back with his stick, and Mike only shook his head in amusement.
Everybody knew that it was a bad idea to mess with Homer when he got like this. Those that didn’t already quickly got pulled aside by one of the more experienced team members, to get an explanation why exactly it sometimes was the best to just let Homer do what he thought he needed to do.
Mike remembered when he’d come to Detroit. Steve had been the one that had come to his office one day and had told Mike with patient, calm words that there were several werewolves on the team; without specifying how many exactly or who they were. It didn’t matter, Steve had insisted, and even if he didn’t have that much prior experience with werewolves, Mike had, over the weeks and months of the season, figured out who on his team was a werewolf and who wasn’t.
Being a werewolf, he’d soon realized, was probably a bit like having a skin disease: in some guys, it was obvious that they were members of this species, and in others, he would never have noticed. However, werewolf or human, they all were people with families, hopes and dreams. Werewolves were a part of society and always had been, even if they had their own laws and law enforcement to make sure that there wouldn’t be any problems with the humans they interacted with on a daily basis.
It still was for the best to stay out of a werewolf’s way in a full moon night, but besides that, they all were the same: just ordinary people.
Steve, he’d realized quickly, was the highest werewolf on the team, but Homer was a close second. Homer took care of the moon problems, as he called them, and he had for as long as Mike had been with the team. If he was pushing Hank – another confirmed werewolf – off the ice like this, and if Hank, who usually didn’t allow anyone to push him around like this, meekly followed his growled orders, Mike knew not to interfere and simply take a step back, even if it was in the middle of practice.
He knew that Homer and Hank would work even harder when they returned.
He caught Nick glancing curiously after Homer and slowly skated over to him. Nick, he knew, was not a werewolf, but he was close to both Homer and Steve, and it was only logical to ask him if he knew what was going on.
“Any problems I should know about?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Nick admitted. “But Homer has been worried about Hank for a few days, and they didn’t set out to fight, so I guess it’s just a moon issue and they will work it out.”
Mike frowned. “Fight?” he muttered, not liking the sound of that, but before Nick could add an additional explanation, Mike shook his head and lifted his whistle. “Let’s go back to work.”
~*+*~
Hank sat down in front of his locker and shook off his gloves.
“Well?” Homer asked and glared down at him. He hadn’t even put down his stick, Hank noticed with a sinking feeling deep in his stomach. “What has you so distracted now?”
“I’m not…” Hank started, but he quickly stopped himself and sighed before starting to explain. “I met this guy last full moon…he was... It was his first…he’d managed to escape from his guardians and was running around outside, so I took him with me.” He shook his head. “And now…”
“Now what?” Homer prompted when he didn’t continue.
“Now I can’t stop thinking about him…it’s weird.” Hank frowned in confusion. “I’ve never felt like this before…not even with Pavs. I think I’ve never felt anything this strong. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean, you met this guy?” Homer asked.
Hank squirmed slightly. “You know,” he muttered. This wasn’t something he was comfortable talking about. “We met, and then…things happened.”
“Things?” Homer asked. “What are you, thirteen? What kind of things?”
A blush started to cover Hank’s cheeks. “You know…sex things.” He definitely was uncomfortable to have this talk with Homer, he realized. They usually only hinted at the things they did during the full moon, if at all, and he’d managed to avoid thinking about what Homer did in the privacy of his own home.
A slow smile started to spread over Homer’s face as he slowly worked through the explanation and realized what Hank’s problem was. “Congratulations,” he said, his voice still gruff. “You have imprinted on another werewolf.”
Hank stared at him blankly. “I what?”
Homer rolled his eyes. “For sure, you found your mate,” he explained patiently. “The wolf that makes your soul complete and all that shit.”
Hank frowned as he slowly worked through Homer’s words. “But that can’t be true. I still love Pavs,” he finally protested weakly.
“So?” Homer asked back, a deep frown appearing between his eyes. He didn’t understand what Hank was trying to tell him here.
“If your soul is complete with your mate…” Hank trailed off expectantly, but when Homer didn’t react, he continued, “Doesn’t that mean that you’ll spend the rest of your life with them?”
“Yeah, so?” Homer asked again.
“Doesn’t that mean I don’t love Pavs anymore? But I do,” Hank helplessly tried to explain the emotional turmoil in his head.
“Of course you do,” Homer huffed. “That has nothing to do with being mates with someone, for sure. That’s why we have Nicky and Ozzie…and Shanny.”
“But…” Hank turned his head to the side questioningly and shrugged slightly, the motion almost invisible under his padding, “If your mate makes your soul complete, you don’t need them anymore. Which would mean that Stevie isn’t your mate.”
Homer scowled darkly at him. He didn’t like how their conversation had gotten so complicated suddenly.
“For sure he is,” he said more patiently than he felt. “I’m imprinted on him and he on me. But my soul is still my own. I’m still my own person. We’re not storks, Hank.”
“For sure,” Hank murmured, more and more confused. “I always thought…”
Homer’s snort interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “Almost since I came here I’ve been with Stevie,” he said. “You don’t think we would notice if we’re not mates?”
“Yeah,” Hank had to admit sheepishly. “You’re right. I still don’t understand...”
“Mates…they’re like chocolate, or coffee, for sure,” Homer explained after a brief moment of thinking. “Or like drinking from the cup. They’re not…a chastity belt.” He shook his head. “What they teach the kids nowadays, I wonder.”
“My parents never needed anyone but themselves,” Hank said weakly. “They always said that when you found your mate, you don’t need anyone else.”
Homer just growled. “For sure, I wish Stevie was here, to knock some sense into your head,” he said, and Hank was suddenly glad that Homer wasn’t planning on using the stick he was still holding to do just that. He had no idea how they would explain something like that to the others. “It’s very rare for mated werewolves not to have someone with them. Trust me. I wouldn’t trade ours for anything.”
Hank lowered his head, submitting to the older wolf and relenting the point.
It was a formality more than anything else; they both knew that Hank was being groomed to be the next strong alpha, and, if Homer would still be around then, he would submit to Hank without hesitation. But right now, Homer was still higher than him in the hierarchy, and he deserved respect.
“What now?” Hank finally asked.
“Now?” Homer said and finally sat down next to him. “You figure things out. You talk to the kid, you and him decide if this is really what you want or if you want to wait before making it official…you decide if you want to belong to the same pack or not, and if you do, if it’s going to be his or yours.” Homer sighed. “And then, you let your alpha talk to his for an agreement.”
He hesitated for a split-second. “You should come to a decision about Pasha, too, and you really should tell him about your mate…and your mate about Pasha.”
“Why?” Hank asked, his thoughts still caught up with the concept of having a mate. “You think he’ll get possessive and try to harm Pavs?”
They all had heard stories about jealous and possessive werewolves, Homer thought while staring at him as if he’d grown a second head, but obviously, the stories Hank had heard had gone a step further than the ones that had been around when Homer had been his age. But then, he never had realized how…messed up Hank’s idea of a mate was, either.
He really wished Stevie was here.
“That Miller kid is not going to hurt anyone, Hank,” he finally managed to say. “Besides, you know what happens to werewolves who hurt humans.”
Hank’s head shot up. “How did you know it was Ryan?” he asked, surprise coloring his every word.
Homer laughed. “For sure, there were only seven cubs who heard the moon for the first time and only the Miller kid managed to escape. We had figured it out pretty quickly for sure.”
“You knew all along,” Hank accused, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Homer shrugged. “Consider it a test,” he said, even if he hadn’t known from the beginning, but the kid didn’t need to know that.
It couldn’t harm anyone if Hank thought that Homer knew what he was talking about.
“And talk to Pavs.” He looked tired for a brief moment. “Only because it would be the decent thing to do.”
Hank sighed again. “You’re right.” He had a lot to think about, and he didn’t even know where he was supposed to start.
“Of course I am,” Homer grinned. “But the rest is up to you. If you have questions, ask. And now…Come on.” He stood. “Coach is waiting.”
His stick tapped Hank’s shins, and without waiting for the younger man, he left for the ice, again. He knew that Hank had a lot to work through, a lot of decisions to make, and he knew that he would find out as soon as Hank had figured out what he would do.
In the meantime, they had a season to prepare for.
~*+*~
Pavel looked up from where he was leaning against the boards. He’d noticed just as much as Homer had that Hank had been distracted in the past three weeks, ever since he’d returned to Detroit for the new season. However, Pavel hadn’t said anything.
Hank was stepping back onto the ice now, meekly following Homer who already was at the other side of the rink. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, and when he looked up and caught Pavel staring at him, he straightened visibly, and his hands tightened slightly on his stick.
Pavel frowned and pushed himself off the boards. Something wasn’t right with Hank, and it hadn’t been resolved by Homer talking to him. If anything, Hank looked even more confused than he had before.
Maybe, he thought while gliding to the end of the line, waiting for another skating drill, he should stop by Hank’s room later that night, and try to find out himself what was going on.
For now, he had other things to concentrate on, he knew, and when he received the pass from Nick and skated toward the goal, his focus narrowed until he didn’t think about Hank anymore.
He didn’t think about Hank until practice was over and he sat in front of his locker, slowly and methodically removing pieces of equipment. Sweat was dripping off his hair and the tip of his nose, and when Hank walked by, he didn’t even turn his head toward Pavel.
It brought the worry and confusion back to the forefront of his mind.
It was three days until the full moon, he’d double-checked it before they’d left for training camp. Hank’s senses always went to overdrive just before a full moon. Every werewolf’s did – one glance in the other direction, where Homer was almost crawling into Oz’ locker, confirmed that. Hank should be sticking close to Pavel, like he’d done almost the complete last season, teasing him with looks and smiles and the occasional touch that seemed innocent enough, but really wasn’t, just like Homer was doing it to Oz right now.
Didn’t Hank want him anymore? But, if that was the case, he could, at least, have the decency to tell Pavel, right? Hank was a good guy, he wouldn’t just drop Pavel like this.
It all didn’t make sense.
Slowly, Pavel stood and went to shower, still lost in thoughts. He would find out what was going on with Hank, and if he had to take his stick to Hank’s room to beat some sense into him in order to achieve that goal, he would do so.
~*+*~
“Well?” Nick asked later, when he stopped by Tomas’ room and allowed the werewolf to rub his nose gently against Nick’s throat. Tomas’ beard was tickling, but Nick had long grown used to the sensation.
He had a brief moment of missing Stevie – lying on Tomas’ bed, stretched out, Chris curled against his side, with both their heads pillowed on Shanny’s thigh, Shanny’s fingers playing with Stevie’s hair while the three of them gently teased Homer about his habit of sniffing Nick – but he quickly pushed it away.
That was the past. Both Stevie and Brendan were gone now, and it was his team.
Tomas shrugged and brushed just the tip of his tongue against Nick’s throat.
“He imprinted on another werewolf,” he explained after a moment. “Where’s Chris?”
“He’s stopping by later. He was still playing cards with Malts and Drapes…he was winning, for once,” Nick replied. “So Hank found his mate? Who is it?”
“The Miller kid. Ryan. Quiet guy. Stevie thinks he and Hank are a good match. He also says hi.”
Tomas lifted one shoulder in a shrug and started to unbutton Nick’s shirt. “If he decides to join our pack…we win a good person, for sure.”
“And if Hank decides to join his pack, we lose one,” Nick murmured thoughtfully.
“I know, yeah.” Tomas frowned slightly before brushing the now completely unbuttoned shirt off of Nick’s shoulders, and rubbing his nose against a sharp collarbone. “Stevie doesn’t think Hank will leave.”
“You know what, I don’t think so, either,” Nick said and lifted his arms, to wrap them around Tomas’ shoulders and pull the two of them close together.
Tomas’ hands settled instinctively on Nick’s slim hips. “Let me guess,” he grinned teasingly and tilted his own hips forward, into the contact with Nick. “You don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Now that you mention it…” Nick smiled slightly. “We haven’t seen each other for almost three months, and the full moon is three days away.”
Tomas choked back a groan. “I like the way you’re thinking,” he admitted and kissed Nick briefly, but before he could deepen the kiss, a soft knock forced them apart again.
“Chris,” Tomas murmured, his keen werewolf hearing having already picked up on the familiar sounds of the goalie’s footsteps, before he went and opened the door.
“You started without me?” Chris exclaimed when he saw Nick with his shirt off before quickly stepping into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.
“Barely,” Nick assured him. “We were just talking about Hank.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about him tonight,” Chris said and quickly pulled off his sweater. “Pavs was sneaking into his room when I came over.”
“In that case…” Tomas grinned and grabbed Chris, pulling him back against him and kissing along his shoulder, “Let’s concentrate on other stuff, for sure.”
~*+*~
“We need talk.”
Hank blinked confusedly at Pavel, but he didn’t protest the quietly determined words and just stood back, to let Pavel enter his room.
Pavel was right, of course, he thought – they needed to talk, but Hank had no idea how to breach the topic that was burning so brightly under his nails. He’d thought about it ever since he’d had his talk with Homer, but so far, with no result. He’d hoped to avoid this situation until he’d worked through some of the things he’d discussed with Homer, but, judging by the expression on Pavel’s face, they were going to have this conversation now, no matter how unprepared Hank felt.
He didn’t know how he could tell Pavel that he’d found someone else. He liked Pavel a lot. Pavel was his best friend, on and off the team, and Hank didn’t want to hurt him, and telling him that there was another guy in Hank’s life now – something he didn’t even know for sure yet, he reminded himself firmly – would probably be like a slap to the face.
He knew that humans had other standards for relationships than werewolves did. While humans often were monogamous, it was perfectly okay for werewolves to have several relationships at the same time.
At least until they found their mate – or not?
Hank’s parents had been monogamous, claiming that they only needed each other. It had left Hank with a few questions he was still puzzling about; especially when dealing with Stevie and Homer and their apparently very tumultuous relationship. Of course Hank had realized that Shanny and Nick and Ozzie tended to smell like Homer and Stevie. A werewolf’s nose became very keen during the full moon, after all, but he’d never allowed himself to think too hard about it.
Hank had managed to avoid to think too closely about the dichotomy of what his parents had taught him when he had been growing up, and what Homer was trying to teach him, and now, this discrepancy had come back to bite him in the ass.
He hadn’t been able to resist Ryan – nobody was able to resist their mate, after all. If he believed what his parents had told him, having imprinted on the lanky goalie meant that he needed to stop seeing Pavel, something he absolutely didn’t want. He still loved Pavel, but, he realized as he watched the Russian pace the length of the room, he loved him differently than he loved Ryan.
Who he still needed to call.
But first, he needed to tell Pavel about Ryan. Pavel deserved to know.
He sighed and stepped into his friend’s path, putting his hands on Pavel’s shoulders to stop his movements.
“I need to tell you something,” he said quietly. “Something important that I haven’t figured out yet, myself, so bear with me, okay?”
Pavel nodded and looked at him expectantly.
Hank took a deep breath. “You know how sometimes, when it’s a full moon and you’re not around, I find someone else?” he started hesitantly. It made him uncomfortable just mentioning it, basically admitting out loud that he’d cheated on Pavel, even if the other man had been aware of it, but he needed to come clean now.
Pavel nodded. Every time it had happened in the past, Hank had came back to him with a guilty conscience, and while he hadn’t said much about what he’d done, his eyes and his hands had begged Pavel for forgiveness for his nature every time.
“Well…I did that…and…” Hank interrupted himself with an angry shake of his head. “The guy I found this time…he was a werewolf. A young one.”
Pavel frowned and tilted his head to the side. “You not talk to me because you have sex with other werewolf?” he asked, disbelief filling him. “You not talk to me for three weeks because that?”
Hank lifted his head to stare at him. “I did talk to you,” he said slowly, trying to think back over the past weeks. “Didn’t I?”
Pavel’s chin came up challengingly. “Only about hockey,” he muttered. “Is almost full moon and you not even look at me.”
Hank sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Clothes rustled and the air in the room became almost stifling as he tried to figure out what had happened in the past few weeks.
“I can’t stop thinking about Ryan,” he admitted. “Homer says it’s because Ryan’s my mate…I don’t know, Pasha. I look at you and I remember Ryan, and it’s not fair…to you, or to him. But I still can’t stop it.”
Pavel thought for a moment while sitting down next to Hank. Their shoulders brushed, but he didn’t pay attention to the shiver that raced along his spine at the innocent touch.
“He your mate?” he finally asked, wanting to make sure he’d understood correctly. His heart contracted painfully in his chest, and for a long second, he felt as if he was suffocating. A mate was something different from a quick one-night-stand during a full moon night. A mate was permanent.
A mate meant that Hank really was breaking up with him. Knowing Hank, he just hadn’t figured out the best way to break the news to Pavel, and had chosen to ignore him instead. Knowing Hank, he’d probably decided to tell Pav and then, he’d just pushed it back another day until now.
“I think so,” Hank murmured. “I haven’t talked to him about this yet…I mean, I don’t even know what he thinks about this whole mess.” He sighed again. “But that’s not all. Not really.”
Pavel took a carefully measured breath and bumped his shoulder against Hank in encouragement. “What else?” he asked, proud that his voice hadn’t cracked under the weight of the words.
Hank sighed and turned his head, finally, after long weeks of brief glances, to look at Pavel.
“I don’t know what to do, Pasha. My parents always said that it’s okay to have several relationships, until you meet the one that makes your soul complete, but from then on, you don’t need anyone else, and I…I think they’re wrong about that.” It was painful, admitting that, and Hank’s shoulders slumped as he allowed himself to voice what he was starting to believe.
“I think I’m still loving you,” he confessed, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
Silence filled the room as Pavel struggled to understand the implications and the meaning of Hank’s words.
“You think?” he finally asked.
Hank shrugged and slumped down even more. “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” he muttered and put his face in his hands. “This is all…confusing.”
Pavel sighed and allowed himself to follow his own instincts as he wrapped his arm around Hank’s shoulders and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Easy,” he murmured, his nose buried in Hank’s hair. “You do what you think is right.”
Hank twisted slightly in the embrace. “But…what if I don’t know what is right anymore?” he asked. His hand came up to rest on Pavel’s thigh, fingers restlessly moving over the denim of Pavel’s jeans.
Pavel pressed a kiss against Hank’s temple. “You figure out,” he said, confident in his friend. “And if not, Homer beat you with stick until you smart again.”
Hank chuckled weakly. “You’re probably right.”
He sighed and looked down at his hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Pasha,” he murmured. “I can’t stop thinking about Ryan and I still don’t want to lose you, and it’s confusing the hell out of me. You can’t have everything, after all. I know I have to decide, but…”
“You talk to Homer?” Pavel asked when Hank trailed off. “What he say?”
Hank shook his head. “Having a mate is like drinking from the cup, but not like a chastity belt,” he quoted. “Whatever that means.”
Pavel laughed and allowed his fingers to run down Hank’s back. The dread he’d felt when Hank had started his explanation slowly dissolved, until it was mostly gone. He knew he would have this bad feeling at the bottom of his stomach until Hank had come to a final decision about what he wanted to do here, but he still loved Pavel, and at the moment, that was the most important thing.
“It means you need decide for yourself...who you want,” he said.
Hank grimaced. “I need to decide? But what if I want both of you?” He ran a hand through his hair, almost poking Pavel in the eye with his fingers. “This is all hypothetical, you know. I didn’t even talk to Ryan about anything of this yet.”
Pavel thought again. “Then maybe that what you do,” he suggested. “Talk to him. Find out what he want.”
Hank sighed. “You’re right. When did you get so smart?” He turned to press a brief, dry kiss to Pavel’s lips. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Pavel replied, more relief filling him and almost making him giddy. “Now go call mate!”
Chapter 4.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Hockey/NHL (Detroit Red Wings, Buffalo Sabres)
Current Word Count: 19,383
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: This is absolutely not true. The names of real people have been used, but this is just my imagination and done with lots of adoration and love for the guys and my mind isn’t affiliated with them anyways. The chapters are named after songs that don’t belong to me either.
Pairings: Henrik Zetterberg/Ryan Miller, Steve Yzerman/Tomas Holmstrom/Nick Lidstrom/Chris Osgood/Brendan Shanahan and Henrik Zetterberg/Pavel Datsyuk in the background
Warnings: slash, supernatural things, real people
Summary: Adulthood, mates, packs, the life of a werewolf is never boring
Author’s Notes: My neverending thank you goes to
nerfgunqueen and mer5, who checked this over for me, and especially Ginny, who held my hand while helping me getting this thing in order, including the summary. Also to chosenfire28 for the artwork, thank you so much!Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
III. Chapter 3: With A Little Help From My Friends.
Hank bumped into Homer and would have fallen if the older man hadn’t reacted as quickly as he did and reached out to steady him.
“You okay?” Homer asked quietly. “You’re not very much concentrating, Hank.”
Hank blushed. “I know,” he muttered. “Sorry.”
Homer frowned. “It’s okay,” he waved Hank’s apology off. “Better tell me what has you so distracted.”
Hank sighed and poked at a puck with the tip of his skate. “Not here,” he tried to evade. “Too many people.”
Homer narrowed his eyes slightly. “Is this a guy issue or a moon issue?” he whispered.
Hank squirmed slightly. “Both, I think,” he confessed. “I don’t know what to do.”
Homer stared at him for a second longer before coming to a decision. “Come on,” he said and, grabbing his arm, began to pull Hank toward the dressing room.
“Hey!” Hank protested, but a quiet growl quickly made him shut up. He didn’t want to risk annoying Homer; besides, he really could use some advice.
Mike gave him a puzzled frown as Homer pushed an unresisting Hank past him. “For sure, he….he pulled his groin, coach,” the older Swede quickly said. “Won’t take long.”
He didn’t wait for a comment as he nudged Hank in the back with his stick, and Mike only shook his head in amusement.
Everybody knew that it was a bad idea to mess with Homer when he got like this. Those that didn’t already quickly got pulled aside by one of the more experienced team members, to get an explanation why exactly it sometimes was the best to just let Homer do what he thought he needed to do.
Mike remembered when he’d come to Detroit. Steve had been the one that had come to his office one day and had told Mike with patient, calm words that there were several werewolves on the team; without specifying how many exactly or who they were. It didn’t matter, Steve had insisted, and even if he didn’t have that much prior experience with werewolves, Mike had, over the weeks and months of the season, figured out who on his team was a werewolf and who wasn’t.
Being a werewolf, he’d soon realized, was probably a bit like having a skin disease: in some guys, it was obvious that they were members of this species, and in others, he would never have noticed. However, werewolf or human, they all were people with families, hopes and dreams. Werewolves were a part of society and always had been, even if they had their own laws and law enforcement to make sure that there wouldn’t be any problems with the humans they interacted with on a daily basis.
It still was for the best to stay out of a werewolf’s way in a full moon night, but besides that, they all were the same: just ordinary people.
Steve, he’d realized quickly, was the highest werewolf on the team, but Homer was a close second. Homer took care of the moon problems, as he called them, and he had for as long as Mike had been with the team. If he was pushing Hank – another confirmed werewolf – off the ice like this, and if Hank, who usually didn’t allow anyone to push him around like this, meekly followed his growled orders, Mike knew not to interfere and simply take a step back, even if it was in the middle of practice.
He knew that Homer and Hank would work even harder when they returned.
He caught Nick glancing curiously after Homer and slowly skated over to him. Nick, he knew, was not a werewolf, but he was close to both Homer and Steve, and it was only logical to ask him if he knew what was going on.
“Any problems I should know about?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” Nick admitted. “But Homer has been worried about Hank for a few days, and they didn’t set out to fight, so I guess it’s just a moon issue and they will work it out.”
Mike frowned. “Fight?” he muttered, not liking the sound of that, but before Nick could add an additional explanation, Mike shook his head and lifted his whistle. “Let’s go back to work.”
~*+*~
Hank sat down in front of his locker and shook off his gloves.
“Well?” Homer asked and glared down at him. He hadn’t even put down his stick, Hank noticed with a sinking feeling deep in his stomach. “What has you so distracted now?”
“I’m not…” Hank started, but he quickly stopped himself and sighed before starting to explain. “I met this guy last full moon…he was... It was his first…he’d managed to escape from his guardians and was running around outside, so I took him with me.” He shook his head. “And now…”
“Now what?” Homer prompted when he didn’t continue.
“Now I can’t stop thinking about him…it’s weird.” Hank frowned in confusion. “I’ve never felt like this before…not even with Pavs. I think I’ve never felt anything this strong. I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean, you met this guy?” Homer asked.
Hank squirmed slightly. “You know,” he muttered. This wasn’t something he was comfortable talking about. “We met, and then…things happened.”
“Things?” Homer asked. “What are you, thirteen? What kind of things?”
A blush started to cover Hank’s cheeks. “You know…sex things.” He definitely was uncomfortable to have this talk with Homer, he realized. They usually only hinted at the things they did during the full moon, if at all, and he’d managed to avoid thinking about what Homer did in the privacy of his own home.
A slow smile started to spread over Homer’s face as he slowly worked through the explanation and realized what Hank’s problem was. “Congratulations,” he said, his voice still gruff. “You have imprinted on another werewolf.”
Hank stared at him blankly. “I what?”
Homer rolled his eyes. “For sure, you found your mate,” he explained patiently. “The wolf that makes your soul complete and all that shit.”
Hank frowned as he slowly worked through Homer’s words. “But that can’t be true. I still love Pavs,” he finally protested weakly.
“So?” Homer asked back, a deep frown appearing between his eyes. He didn’t understand what Hank was trying to tell him here.
“If your soul is complete with your mate…” Hank trailed off expectantly, but when Homer didn’t react, he continued, “Doesn’t that mean that you’ll spend the rest of your life with them?”
“Yeah, so?” Homer asked again.
“Doesn’t that mean I don’t love Pavs anymore? But I do,” Hank helplessly tried to explain the emotional turmoil in his head.
“Of course you do,” Homer huffed. “That has nothing to do with being mates with someone, for sure. That’s why we have Nicky and Ozzie…and Shanny.”
“But…” Hank turned his head to the side questioningly and shrugged slightly, the motion almost invisible under his padding, “If your mate makes your soul complete, you don’t need them anymore. Which would mean that Stevie isn’t your mate.”
Homer scowled darkly at him. He didn’t like how their conversation had gotten so complicated suddenly.
“For sure he is,” he said more patiently than he felt. “I’m imprinted on him and he on me. But my soul is still my own. I’m still my own person. We’re not storks, Hank.”
“For sure,” Hank murmured, more and more confused. “I always thought…”
Homer’s snort interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. “Almost since I came here I’ve been with Stevie,” he said. “You don’t think we would notice if we’re not mates?”
“Yeah,” Hank had to admit sheepishly. “You’re right. I still don’t understand...”
“Mates…they’re like chocolate, or coffee, for sure,” Homer explained after a brief moment of thinking. “Or like drinking from the cup. They’re not…a chastity belt.” He shook his head. “What they teach the kids nowadays, I wonder.”
“My parents never needed anyone but themselves,” Hank said weakly. “They always said that when you found your mate, you don’t need anyone else.”
Homer just growled. “For sure, I wish Stevie was here, to knock some sense into your head,” he said, and Hank was suddenly glad that Homer wasn’t planning on using the stick he was still holding to do just that. He had no idea how they would explain something like that to the others. “It’s very rare for mated werewolves not to have someone with them. Trust me. I wouldn’t trade ours for anything.”
Hank lowered his head, submitting to the older wolf and relenting the point.
It was a formality more than anything else; they both knew that Hank was being groomed to be the next strong alpha, and, if Homer would still be around then, he would submit to Hank without hesitation. But right now, Homer was still higher than him in the hierarchy, and he deserved respect.
“What now?” Hank finally asked.
“Now?” Homer said and finally sat down next to him. “You figure things out. You talk to the kid, you and him decide if this is really what you want or if you want to wait before making it official…you decide if you want to belong to the same pack or not, and if you do, if it’s going to be his or yours.” Homer sighed. “And then, you let your alpha talk to his for an agreement.”
He hesitated for a split-second. “You should come to a decision about Pasha, too, and you really should tell him about your mate…and your mate about Pasha.”
“Why?” Hank asked, his thoughts still caught up with the concept of having a mate. “You think he’ll get possessive and try to harm Pavs?”
They all had heard stories about jealous and possessive werewolves, Homer thought while staring at him as if he’d grown a second head, but obviously, the stories Hank had heard had gone a step further than the ones that had been around when Homer had been his age. But then, he never had realized how…messed up Hank’s idea of a mate was, either.
He really wished Stevie was here.
“That Miller kid is not going to hurt anyone, Hank,” he finally managed to say. “Besides, you know what happens to werewolves who hurt humans.”
Hank’s head shot up. “How did you know it was Ryan?” he asked, surprise coloring his every word.
Homer laughed. “For sure, there were only seven cubs who heard the moon for the first time and only the Miller kid managed to escape. We had figured it out pretty quickly for sure.”
“You knew all along,” Hank accused, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.
Homer shrugged. “Consider it a test,” he said, even if he hadn’t known from the beginning, but the kid didn’t need to know that.
It couldn’t harm anyone if Hank thought that Homer knew what he was talking about.
“And talk to Pavs.” He looked tired for a brief moment. “Only because it would be the decent thing to do.”
Hank sighed again. “You’re right.” He had a lot to think about, and he didn’t even know where he was supposed to start.
“Of course I am,” Homer grinned. “But the rest is up to you. If you have questions, ask. And now…Come on.” He stood. “Coach is waiting.”
His stick tapped Hank’s shins, and without waiting for the younger man, he left for the ice, again. He knew that Hank had a lot to work through, a lot of decisions to make, and he knew that he would find out as soon as Hank had figured out what he would do.
In the meantime, they had a season to prepare for.
~*+*~
Pavel looked up from where he was leaning against the boards. He’d noticed just as much as Homer had that Hank had been distracted in the past three weeks, ever since he’d returned to Detroit for the new season. However, Pavel hadn’t said anything.
Hank was stepping back onto the ice now, meekly following Homer who already was at the other side of the rink. He had a thoughtful expression on his face, and when he looked up and caught Pavel staring at him, he straightened visibly, and his hands tightened slightly on his stick.
Pavel frowned and pushed himself off the boards. Something wasn’t right with Hank, and it hadn’t been resolved by Homer talking to him. If anything, Hank looked even more confused than he had before.
Maybe, he thought while gliding to the end of the line, waiting for another skating drill, he should stop by Hank’s room later that night, and try to find out himself what was going on.
For now, he had other things to concentrate on, he knew, and when he received the pass from Nick and skated toward the goal, his focus narrowed until he didn’t think about Hank anymore.
He didn’t think about Hank until practice was over and he sat in front of his locker, slowly and methodically removing pieces of equipment. Sweat was dripping off his hair and the tip of his nose, and when Hank walked by, he didn’t even turn his head toward Pavel.
It brought the worry and confusion back to the forefront of his mind.
It was three days until the full moon, he’d double-checked it before they’d left for training camp. Hank’s senses always went to overdrive just before a full moon. Every werewolf’s did – one glance in the other direction, where Homer was almost crawling into Oz’ locker, confirmed that. Hank should be sticking close to Pavel, like he’d done almost the complete last season, teasing him with looks and smiles and the occasional touch that seemed innocent enough, but really wasn’t, just like Homer was doing it to Oz right now.
Didn’t Hank want him anymore? But, if that was the case, he could, at least, have the decency to tell Pavel, right? Hank was a good guy, he wouldn’t just drop Pavel like this.
It all didn’t make sense.
Slowly, Pavel stood and went to shower, still lost in thoughts. He would find out what was going on with Hank, and if he had to take his stick to Hank’s room to beat some sense into him in order to achieve that goal, he would do so.
~*+*~
“Well?” Nick asked later, when he stopped by Tomas’ room and allowed the werewolf to rub his nose gently against Nick’s throat. Tomas’ beard was tickling, but Nick had long grown used to the sensation.
He had a brief moment of missing Stevie – lying on Tomas’ bed, stretched out, Chris curled against his side, with both their heads pillowed on Shanny’s thigh, Shanny’s fingers playing with Stevie’s hair while the three of them gently teased Homer about his habit of sniffing Nick – but he quickly pushed it away.
That was the past. Both Stevie and Brendan were gone now, and it was his team.
Tomas shrugged and brushed just the tip of his tongue against Nick’s throat.
“He imprinted on another werewolf,” he explained after a moment. “Where’s Chris?”
“He’s stopping by later. He was still playing cards with Malts and Drapes…he was winning, for once,” Nick replied. “So Hank found his mate? Who is it?”
“The Miller kid. Ryan. Quiet guy. Stevie thinks he and Hank are a good match. He also says hi.”
Tomas lifted one shoulder in a shrug and started to unbutton Nick’s shirt. “If he decides to join our pack…we win a good person, for sure.”
“And if Hank decides to join his pack, we lose one,” Nick murmured thoughtfully.
“I know, yeah.” Tomas frowned slightly before brushing the now completely unbuttoned shirt off of Nick’s shoulders, and rubbing his nose against a sharp collarbone. “Stevie doesn’t think Hank will leave.”
“You know what, I don’t think so, either,” Nick said and lifted his arms, to wrap them around Tomas’ shoulders and pull the two of them close together.
Tomas’ hands settled instinctively on Nick’s slim hips. “Let me guess,” he grinned teasingly and tilted his own hips forward, into the contact with Nick. “You don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Now that you mention it…” Nick smiled slightly. “We haven’t seen each other for almost three months, and the full moon is three days away.”
Tomas choked back a groan. “I like the way you’re thinking,” he admitted and kissed Nick briefly, but before he could deepen the kiss, a soft knock forced them apart again.
“Chris,” Tomas murmured, his keen werewolf hearing having already picked up on the familiar sounds of the goalie’s footsteps, before he went and opened the door.
“You started without me?” Chris exclaimed when he saw Nick with his shirt off before quickly stepping into the room and kicking the door shut behind him.
“Barely,” Nick assured him. “We were just talking about Hank.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about him tonight,” Chris said and quickly pulled off his sweater. “Pavs was sneaking into his room when I came over.”
“In that case…” Tomas grinned and grabbed Chris, pulling him back against him and kissing along his shoulder, “Let’s concentrate on other stuff, for sure.”
~*+*~
“We need talk.”
Hank blinked confusedly at Pavel, but he didn’t protest the quietly determined words and just stood back, to let Pavel enter his room.
Pavel was right, of course, he thought – they needed to talk, but Hank had no idea how to breach the topic that was burning so brightly under his nails. He’d thought about it ever since he’d had his talk with Homer, but so far, with no result. He’d hoped to avoid this situation until he’d worked through some of the things he’d discussed with Homer, but, judging by the expression on Pavel’s face, they were going to have this conversation now, no matter how unprepared Hank felt.
He didn’t know how he could tell Pavel that he’d found someone else. He liked Pavel a lot. Pavel was his best friend, on and off the team, and Hank didn’t want to hurt him, and telling him that there was another guy in Hank’s life now – something he didn’t even know for sure yet, he reminded himself firmly – would probably be like a slap to the face.
He knew that humans had other standards for relationships than werewolves did. While humans often were monogamous, it was perfectly okay for werewolves to have several relationships at the same time.
At least until they found their mate – or not?
Hank’s parents had been monogamous, claiming that they only needed each other. It had left Hank with a few questions he was still puzzling about; especially when dealing with Stevie and Homer and their apparently very tumultuous relationship. Of course Hank had realized that Shanny and Nick and Ozzie tended to smell like Homer and Stevie. A werewolf’s nose became very keen during the full moon, after all, but he’d never allowed himself to think too hard about it.
Hank had managed to avoid to think too closely about the dichotomy of what his parents had taught him when he had been growing up, and what Homer was trying to teach him, and now, this discrepancy had come back to bite him in the ass.
He hadn’t been able to resist Ryan – nobody was able to resist their mate, after all. If he believed what his parents had told him, having imprinted on the lanky goalie meant that he needed to stop seeing Pavel, something he absolutely didn’t want. He still loved Pavel, but, he realized as he watched the Russian pace the length of the room, he loved him differently than he loved Ryan.
Who he still needed to call.
But first, he needed to tell Pavel about Ryan. Pavel deserved to know.
He sighed and stepped into his friend’s path, putting his hands on Pavel’s shoulders to stop his movements.
“I need to tell you something,” he said quietly. “Something important that I haven’t figured out yet, myself, so bear with me, okay?”
Pavel nodded and looked at him expectantly.
Hank took a deep breath. “You know how sometimes, when it’s a full moon and you’re not around, I find someone else?” he started hesitantly. It made him uncomfortable just mentioning it, basically admitting out loud that he’d cheated on Pavel, even if the other man had been aware of it, but he needed to come clean now.
Pavel nodded. Every time it had happened in the past, Hank had came back to him with a guilty conscience, and while he hadn’t said much about what he’d done, his eyes and his hands had begged Pavel for forgiveness for his nature every time.
“Well…I did that…and…” Hank interrupted himself with an angry shake of his head. “The guy I found this time…he was a werewolf. A young one.”
Pavel frowned and tilted his head to the side. “You not talk to me because you have sex with other werewolf?” he asked, disbelief filling him. “You not talk to me for three weeks because that?”
Hank lifted his head to stare at him. “I did talk to you,” he said slowly, trying to think back over the past weeks. “Didn’t I?”
Pavel’s chin came up challengingly. “Only about hockey,” he muttered. “Is almost full moon and you not even look at me.”
Hank sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. Clothes rustled and the air in the room became almost stifling as he tried to figure out what had happened in the past few weeks.
“I can’t stop thinking about Ryan,” he admitted. “Homer says it’s because Ryan’s my mate…I don’t know, Pasha. I look at you and I remember Ryan, and it’s not fair…to you, or to him. But I still can’t stop it.”
Pavel thought for a moment while sitting down next to Hank. Their shoulders brushed, but he didn’t pay attention to the shiver that raced along his spine at the innocent touch.
“He your mate?” he finally asked, wanting to make sure he’d understood correctly. His heart contracted painfully in his chest, and for a long second, he felt as if he was suffocating. A mate was something different from a quick one-night-stand during a full moon night. A mate was permanent.
A mate meant that Hank really was breaking up with him. Knowing Hank, he just hadn’t figured out the best way to break the news to Pavel, and had chosen to ignore him instead. Knowing Hank, he’d probably decided to tell Pav and then, he’d just pushed it back another day until now.
“I think so,” Hank murmured. “I haven’t talked to him about this yet…I mean, I don’t even know what he thinks about this whole mess.” He sighed again. “But that’s not all. Not really.”
Pavel took a carefully measured breath and bumped his shoulder against Hank in encouragement. “What else?” he asked, proud that his voice hadn’t cracked under the weight of the words.
Hank sighed and turned his head, finally, after long weeks of brief glances, to look at Pavel.
“I don’t know what to do, Pasha. My parents always said that it’s okay to have several relationships, until you meet the one that makes your soul complete, but from then on, you don’t need anyone else, and I…I think they’re wrong about that.” It was painful, admitting that, and Hank’s shoulders slumped as he allowed himself to voice what he was starting to believe.
“I think I’m still loving you,” he confessed, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
Silence filled the room as Pavel struggled to understand the implications and the meaning of Hank’s words.
“You think?” he finally asked.
Hank shrugged and slumped down even more. “I don’t know what I feel anymore,” he muttered and put his face in his hands. “This is all…confusing.”
Pavel sighed and allowed himself to follow his own instincts as he wrapped his arm around Hank’s shoulders and pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Easy,” he murmured, his nose buried in Hank’s hair. “You do what you think is right.”
Hank twisted slightly in the embrace. “But…what if I don’t know what is right anymore?” he asked. His hand came up to rest on Pavel’s thigh, fingers restlessly moving over the denim of Pavel’s jeans.
Pavel pressed a kiss against Hank’s temple. “You figure out,” he said, confident in his friend. “And if not, Homer beat you with stick until you smart again.”
Hank chuckled weakly. “You’re probably right.”
He sighed and looked down at his hand. “I don’t want to lose you, Pasha,” he murmured. “I can’t stop thinking about Ryan and I still don’t want to lose you, and it’s confusing the hell out of me. You can’t have everything, after all. I know I have to decide, but…”
“You talk to Homer?” Pavel asked when Hank trailed off. “What he say?”
Hank shook his head. “Having a mate is like drinking from the cup, but not like a chastity belt,” he quoted. “Whatever that means.”
Pavel laughed and allowed his fingers to run down Hank’s back. The dread he’d felt when Hank had started his explanation slowly dissolved, until it was mostly gone. He knew he would have this bad feeling at the bottom of his stomach until Hank had come to a final decision about what he wanted to do here, but he still loved Pavel, and at the moment, that was the most important thing.
“It means you need decide for yourself...who you want,” he said.
Hank grimaced. “I need to decide? But what if I want both of you?” He ran a hand through his hair, almost poking Pavel in the eye with his fingers. “This is all hypothetical, you know. I didn’t even talk to Ryan about anything of this yet.”
Pavel thought again. “Then maybe that what you do,” he suggested. “Talk to him. Find out what he want.”
Hank sighed. “You’re right. When did you get so smart?” He turned to press a brief, dry kiss to Pavel’s lips. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Pavel replied, more relief filling him and almost making him giddy. “Now go call mate!”
Chapter 4.