Fic: It Was Yours, But Now It's Mine
Title: It Was Yours, But Now It's Mine
Pairing/Prompt: Anton Lander/Magnus Paajarvi, prompt set 8
Rating: R
Content Notes: Profanity; written for the offseasonmatch challenge
Author Notes: Title stolen from the song "Out of Sight, Out of Mind" by Anthrax. As always, a million and one thanks to my beta liroa15.
He doesn't get the news right away. He wouldn't expect to, not really. He's in Sweden. Maggie's agent would have called Maggie and everything, but there's no reason to assume that his agent would do the same. After all, there's no reason to assume he needs the information.
No one knows about them after all, and friends get traded away all the time in the Show. Except maybe Nail. Nail might have known because he was Maggie's road roommate, but Anton's not entirely sure what Nail thinks is going on either. It's hard to tell with that kid. He's pretty much an open book except about things that matter.
His own agent advises him to 'ignore it, try not to think of it, and don't let it affect your hockey.' In short, don't make the job of convincing the Oilers he's a player that they want on their team any harder than it needs to be.
He understands that, but he's still shaken by the loss of... Maggie. He's pretty sure he should call Maggie, and they should talk about it. He's also sure that Maggie would have called him if he wanted to talk about all of this. About any of this.
It's a lot to work through. Being traded for the first time has got to be tough. He hasn't been traded in the NHL yet; he's just bounced back and forth between the Oilers and the Barons and that's tough enough.
He's sitting in his living room, playing with his phone--trying not to see the news on the trade--when he hears the door open.
Only a couple of people have his key: Maggie and his mom. For once, he's really hoping it's not his mom.
Maggie slides into the open seat next to him on the couch. Anton puts his phone down, turns, and actually looks at his boyfriend.
"So, you don't want to talk about it, do you?"
"Not really. I don't even want to think about it. Let's pretend it never happened for one more night. I want one night when I don't have to think about the fact I'm not an Oiler anymore, or I don't know where I fit with the Blues, or the fact my contract is still up in the air."
"All right. We'll talk about something else. Did you get rid of the snakes around your place?"
"Or maybe nothing at all?" Maggie suggests with a smile.
"Somehow, I think I can do that for you."
The kiss is intense, but there's a desperation to it. He can feel it in the way Maggie's mouth presses into his, all teeth and tongue. It's rougher than normal, almost as if Maggie's trying to climb inside of him. Because of that, he's not surprised when Maggie shifts so that his body weight is almost pinning Anton to the couch. It's nice enough to be surrounded by Maggie, the smell and feel of him, but he also has to move because the arm of the couch is in the middle of his back.
He slides forward, careful not to break contact with Maggie's mouth, and ends up sliding under Maggie so that his body is pressed down into the couch with Maggie on top. The almost-embarrassing shimmy he uses to slide down Maggie's body and still kiss him has them both groaning. Apparently, they're both turned on by his almost obscene wiggling and hip-shaking.
Then they have a real reason to groan as their erections are grinding together through their jeans.
"My God," Maggie moans.
He knows the feeling. He's pretty sure the embarrassing whimper he just heard came from his lips. He's glad he's not trying to use words like Maggie, overachiever that he is, because he'd end up sounding soft and ridiculous. And Maggie would chirp him so bad.
Their bodies move together in a way that neither one of them actually have to think about. They've been doing this for years--off and on--and it's almost second nature at this point. Maggie's body fits perfectly against his, and it's easier because of that.
They come apart, gasping for breath, He feels like he and Maggie are becoming one person, so it's disappointing when Maggie pushes himself up on his arms, creating space between their bodies.
"Bedroom?" Maggie asks after they both take a second to get their breath back.
"You know where it is," he teases.
It's frantic once they hit the bed. Clothes are discarded with extreme prejudice, and then Maggie's weight is back on top of him, but it's better now because all he can feel is Maggie.
It's pretty easy for them to get through the prep. Maggie knows what he likes and what he doesn't. Once Maggie's fingers graze a ticklish spot on his side, causing him to jerk, but that's the only mishap.
Maggie always slides in slowly, biting his bottom lip as he does. Anton's seen it enough times that he doesn't have to see it to be able to imagine it in this moment, but it's still nice. His own eyes flutter shut when Maggie bottoms out and starts his ritual of thrusts that slowly speed up, always careful not to do any damage. After all, they're both professional hockey players. This sort of thing has to be approached with the utmost caution to prevent having to explain, well, anything to a trainer. Because Anton would die if that happened.
Maggie only ever loses control of his deliberate pace when he gets close to coming, so when he starts surging forward, Anton knows Maggie is close. Then Maggie moves, one hand coming up to cradle his head and draw him into a kiss and the other to stroke his dick, trapped between them.
It's good.
It's too good.
Maggie follows him over the edge, and they end up tangled on his sheets, sprawled across each other.
They're laying together, clothes spread across the floor--Maggie with his eyes closed and spread across more than half his bed--hours later when he wakes up from a post-sex nap.
"This is going to be the last time we do this, Anton." Maggie's voice is sad.
"It's just different teams, Maggie. We can still have this. That doesn't change. I mean, if we could do it while I was still in Sweden, we can do anything."
"Everything changed with this trade, and you know it."
"We didn't change. You and I didn't change, Maggie."
Maggie pushes himself up and looks at him. The eyes he's loved for forever it seems are sad.
"Maybe it's better if we don't. Out of sight and out of mind. I don't think I can do this, Anton. It's hard enough already. We need to let go."
"You're being an idiot, Magnus." He hopes that the use of Maggie's full name lets his boyfriend--should he still call Maggie that even now?--know just how stupid Anton thinks he's being. "I can't believe you would come over here and try to have break-up sex with me without breaking up with me until after. I think maybe you better leave. What did you say? Out of sight and out of mind?"
"Anton... Landie..."
"No, Maggie. We'll do it your way. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. Now it's time for you to get out of my bedroom because that definitely doesn't fit in your new plan."
He's too miserable to notice Maggie actually leaving, but he knows it happens. He hears doors opening and closing, hears Maggie's soft voice, trying to talk to him, but he's still too angry and he waves the other man away without really listening.
He wanders through his place, touching things, like the X-box controllers and coconut water, that remind him of Maggie more than the others. He stops when he's looking at the couch and gives into the urge to scream.
He just wants to let it all out. Get rid of it. Stop feeling like such an idiot.
Maggie might be out of sight, but he definitely isn't out of mind. Anton's got no idea how he's going to manage that.
Maggie and his fucking stupid ideas.
S
Pairing/Prompt: Anton Lander/Magnus Paajarvi, prompt set 8
Rating: R
Content Notes: Profanity; written for the offseasonmatch challenge
Author Notes: Title stolen from the song "Out of Sight, Out of Mind" by Anthrax. As always, a million and one thanks to my beta liroa15.
He doesn't get the news right away. He wouldn't expect to, not really. He's in Sweden. Maggie's agent would have called Maggie and everything, but there's no reason to assume that his agent would do the same. After all, there's no reason to assume he needs the information.
No one knows about them after all, and friends get traded away all the time in the Show. Except maybe Nail. Nail might have known because he was Maggie's road roommate, but Anton's not entirely sure what Nail thinks is going on either. It's hard to tell with that kid. He's pretty much an open book except about things that matter.
His own agent advises him to 'ignore it, try not to think of it, and don't let it affect your hockey.' In short, don't make the job of convincing the Oilers he's a player that they want on their team any harder than it needs to be.
He understands that, but he's still shaken by the loss of... Maggie. He's pretty sure he should call Maggie, and they should talk about it. He's also sure that Maggie would have called him if he wanted to talk about all of this. About any of this.
It's a lot to work through. Being traded for the first time has got to be tough. He hasn't been traded in the NHL yet; he's just bounced back and forth between the Oilers and the Barons and that's tough enough.
He's sitting in his living room, playing with his phone--trying not to see the news on the trade--when he hears the door open.
Only a couple of people have his key: Maggie and his mom. For once, he's really hoping it's not his mom.
Maggie slides into the open seat next to him on the couch. Anton puts his phone down, turns, and actually looks at his boyfriend.
"So, you don't want to talk about it, do you?"
"Not really. I don't even want to think about it. Let's pretend it never happened for one more night. I want one night when I don't have to think about the fact I'm not an Oiler anymore, or I don't know where I fit with the Blues, or the fact my contract is still up in the air."
"All right. We'll talk about something else. Did you get rid of the snakes around your place?"
"Or maybe nothing at all?" Maggie suggests with a smile.
"Somehow, I think I can do that for you."
The kiss is intense, but there's a desperation to it. He can feel it in the way Maggie's mouth presses into his, all teeth and tongue. It's rougher than normal, almost as if Maggie's trying to climb inside of him. Because of that, he's not surprised when Maggie shifts so that his body weight is almost pinning Anton to the couch. It's nice enough to be surrounded by Maggie, the smell and feel of him, but he also has to move because the arm of the couch is in the middle of his back.
He slides forward, careful not to break contact with Maggie's mouth, and ends up sliding under Maggie so that his body is pressed down into the couch with Maggie on top. The almost-embarrassing shimmy he uses to slide down Maggie's body and still kiss him has them both groaning. Apparently, they're both turned on by his almost obscene wiggling and hip-shaking.
Then they have a real reason to groan as their erections are grinding together through their jeans.
"My God," Maggie moans.
He knows the feeling. He's pretty sure the embarrassing whimper he just heard came from his lips. He's glad he's not trying to use words like Maggie, overachiever that he is, because he'd end up sounding soft and ridiculous. And Maggie would chirp him so bad.
Their bodies move together in a way that neither one of them actually have to think about. They've been doing this for years--off and on--and it's almost second nature at this point. Maggie's body fits perfectly against his, and it's easier because of that.
They come apart, gasping for breath, He feels like he and Maggie are becoming one person, so it's disappointing when Maggie pushes himself up on his arms, creating space between their bodies.
"Bedroom?" Maggie asks after they both take a second to get their breath back.
"You know where it is," he teases.
It's frantic once they hit the bed. Clothes are discarded with extreme prejudice, and then Maggie's weight is back on top of him, but it's better now because all he can feel is Maggie.
It's pretty easy for them to get through the prep. Maggie knows what he likes and what he doesn't. Once Maggie's fingers graze a ticklish spot on his side, causing him to jerk, but that's the only mishap.
Maggie always slides in slowly, biting his bottom lip as he does. Anton's seen it enough times that he doesn't have to see it to be able to imagine it in this moment, but it's still nice. His own eyes flutter shut when Maggie bottoms out and starts his ritual of thrusts that slowly speed up, always careful not to do any damage. After all, they're both professional hockey players. This sort of thing has to be approached with the utmost caution to prevent having to explain, well, anything to a trainer. Because Anton would die if that happened.
Maggie only ever loses control of his deliberate pace when he gets close to coming, so when he starts surging forward, Anton knows Maggie is close. Then Maggie moves, one hand coming up to cradle his head and draw him into a kiss and the other to stroke his dick, trapped between them.
It's good.
It's too good.
Maggie follows him over the edge, and they end up tangled on his sheets, sprawled across each other.
They're laying together, clothes spread across the floor--Maggie with his eyes closed and spread across more than half his bed--hours later when he wakes up from a post-sex nap.
"This is going to be the last time we do this, Anton." Maggie's voice is sad.
"It's just different teams, Maggie. We can still have this. That doesn't change. I mean, if we could do it while I was still in Sweden, we can do anything."
"Everything changed with this trade, and you know it."
"We didn't change. You and I didn't change, Maggie."
Maggie pushes himself up and looks at him. The eyes he's loved for forever it seems are sad.
"Maybe it's better if we don't. Out of sight and out of mind. I don't think I can do this, Anton. It's hard enough already. We need to let go."
"You're being an idiot, Magnus." He hopes that the use of Maggie's full name lets his boyfriend--should he still call Maggie that even now?--know just how stupid Anton thinks he's being. "I can't believe you would come over here and try to have break-up sex with me without breaking up with me until after. I think maybe you better leave. What did you say? Out of sight and out of mind?"
"Anton... Landie..."
"No, Maggie. We'll do it your way. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that. Now it's time for you to get out of my bedroom because that definitely doesn't fit in your new plan."
He's too miserable to notice Maggie actually leaving, but he knows it happens. He hears doors opening and closing, hears Maggie's soft voice, trying to talk to him, but he's still too angry and he waves the other man away without really listening.
He wanders through his place, touching things, like the X-box controllers and coconut water, that remind him of Maggie more than the others. He stops when he's looking at the couch and gives into the urge to scream.
He just wants to let it all out. Get rid of it. Stop feeling like such an idiot.
Maggie might be out of sight, but he definitely isn't out of mind. Anton's got no idea how he's going to manage that.
Maggie and his fucking stupid ideas.
S