smoulderandbraids said: 22 or 38 please!
[22, two miserable people meeting at a wedding au]
"Hawks have two men over the line, Sharp coming up the left wing, Versteeg to Saad, Saad to Sharp, JUST OVER THE GLOVE OF JONATHAN QUICK, HAWKS WIN, HAWKS WIN! A Game 6 overtime win for the Blackhawks and this series is going back to Chicago for a Game 7!!”
“YES!!!!" Patrick screamed, voice echoing. He was so caught up in his fist pumping and victory dancing and scrambling to text Jackie (you just got OWNED, pay up shrimp boat!) that he forgot where he was until a deep, disembodied voice cut the silence in the not-as-empty-as-he-thought bathroom.
Patrick let the stall door swing open, one earbud dangling, phone buzzing in his hand. Elation absolutely trumped embarrassment in this (and so many) situations, so he just grinned at the tall, tanned and confused-looking guy in a light grey suit who was standing awkwardly by the sinks.
"Game Seven, baby!" Patrick crowed, and the guy’s forehead crease eased up a little.
"You’re a hockey fan?"
The guy had a boutonniere and looked vaguely familiar, and Patrick realized that oh, those were the suits the groomsmen were wearing. Suspect behaviour in front of one of the wedding party still couldn’t squelch the raging joy.
The guy grinned. “Good year for you. Jets.” Guy shrugged, a rueful expression on his face.
Patrick was full of good will from the outcome of the game; full of love for his fellow man, and especially this man who filled the lines of his suit nicely and didn’t seem inclined to frown on Patrick’s sneaking away from the “feeding each other cake” portion of events to follow the Hawks-Kings into overtime.
"Sucks, buddy. I’d buy you a drink to say sorry, but—."
Guy snorted. “Open bar. Thanks anyway.” Then he extended his hand. “I’m Jon, by the way.”
Patrick’s brows rose. “Brother of the groom. Congrats then, I guess. And er, sorry about, uh,” Patrick ripped the second earbud from his left ear and let his palm greet Jon’s. “Patrick. Roommate of the bride. Or—former roommate, now.”
It was a whirlwind affair, slapdash wedding, and Harper was leaving him with six months left on their lease to go travel South America with her new romantic lifemate. Patrick’s wedding present was not holding her to her half of the contract.
"Don’t be," Jon said, finally releasing Patrick’s hand. "Fucking—June weddings, right?" His eyeroll captured the remaining disparagement that his tone couldn’t, then he eyed Patrick’s phone speculatively.
"Hey, um…my mom took my phone before the ceremony and won’t give it back til I’ve like, fulfilled all my Best Man obligations. Which apparently includes dancing?" he tacked on wryly. "But I’m sort of dying to check in with the Eastern Conference Final…."
Patrick grinned. “A man after my own heart. You snag some drinks, I’ll grab some cake, meet you back here in ten?”
With a wide smile stretching his features Jon looked less attractively austere, more like an excited puppy. He did a sedate little fist-pump of his own, less ostentatious than Patrick’s victory cellies, but his hockey fervor was no less fierce for it.
“Fuck yeah. Nice to meet you, Patrick,” he said, with a sexy little growl on the last part that had Patrick remembering Harper’s promises of wedding sex for Patrick. (“I’m suuuuure there’ll be someone to suit your lofty—oh wait, your ‘just needs a dick’ standards—which is basically no standards at all,” she’d chirped him over a working brunch: mimosas and folding seating placards for every guest.)
Patrick smiled to himself as he trailed Jon out of the bathroom. All of a sudden those promises were looking a little less empty.
twoearsandaheart: and that’s how they become bros sitting hunched over patrick’s phone in the handicapped stall in the men’s bathroom at jonny’s brother’s wedding small picnic of cake and beer and leaping hugs when crosby finally nets one to send the Pens to the FinalDaddy Toews walks in at one point hollers for the score and instructs jonny that he’s got about 10 more minutes to make an appearance on the dance floor before his mother sends out a search party drunk and silly with it by then (and plotting to keep their heads close enough that they can each still wear an earbud) jonny asks patrick to dance 'dude you are BRILLIANT yeah let's go!' which is how they end up slow-dancing to ‘greatest love of all’ and probably also grinding hockey boners through afrojack’s ‘can’t stop me’