#harvard FinnLo

[fruitcoops]

can you write something with this quote I found? It’s so fitting for coops !

“I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see if another human”

In honor of final exams, here's some Harvard FinnLo fluff to share in the suffering--or, you're in a library with a beautiful boy...

Character credit goes to @lumosinlove , who shattered me into a thousand pieces with the new art and will be receiving a UPS box containing my entire heart soon. It's just easier that way.

(and to my friends, who do not know this blog exists but have spent their night/ early morning sitting across from me while we work, I love you v much)

“I’m gonna die.”

“Non.”

“I’m going to fail out of Harvard.”

“Non.”

“Yon.”

Logan’s eyes flicked up over the edge of the wooden table divider and narrowed, the green made bright by the black band of his chunky headphones. “You’re not failing out.”

“Might.” Finn slumped further into the palm of his hand. Another half-inch of Logan disappeared on the opposite side of their table. They had been here for hours. His body ached. His mind fizzled softly, like bacon fried so long it crumbled at the first touch.

Huh. Maybe he could use that in his paper. Reformation-era literary techniques had to fit somewhere in there.

A sigh gusted out of Logan; Finn straightened just enough to peek over the mahogany separating them. Blunt fingertips pressed against the inner corners of his eyes and turned the skin white, then dragged along the first hints of exhausted shadows before pulling down until Logan had to blink. He caught Finn watching and the almost of a smile shimmered across his face before he pointedly pulled his headphones back over his ears and bent his head to his notebook.

They had learned their lesson from midterms season—any tables where they could see each other only led to hours upon hours of talking instead of studying. But working alone was not an option (not that Finn had ever suggested it), so. Dividers. They had blinders on the sides, too. Finn sort of felt like he had been put in a filing box when they worked here.

“Lo,” he hissed. The scratch of a mechanical pencil answered. “Logan.”

A girl at the table next to them shot him an unamused look. Finn hoped his smile seemed apologetic, or at least sincere.

“Tremzy.”

The toe of a worn-out sneaker found his ankle. Solid, but gentle.

“Fucker,” Finn whispered, hiding his grin behind their divider.

A puff of air would have rustled his notes if they had been studying at their usual place at the dining room table. He listened to Logan scribble; always stilted when his hands got tired. Their room would smell like Tiger Balm tonight. He’d get to see the funny little wrinkle of Logan’s nose, too. Warm light from the swirling green lamps beside them made his hair glow chestnut and maple. It curled at the ends from his shower after practice, now far enough gone that each thick lock was mostly dry. He hated going to bed damp.

A faint ripping noise made the girl next to them glance over. Something gave a faint plastic rattle.  Finn had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his laugh back when Logan’s hand appeared over the divider and haphazardly taped a torn corner of notebook paper to Finn’s side.

SHUT. WORKING.

Reformation literature could wait.

Finn’s pen smudged blue streaks across the side of his palm. He took Logan’s note and carefully peeled the tape off, then smoothed the curling edge over the section he had torn from his own notes.

On what?????

The sliver of Logan’s back he could see heaved.

Finn waited for a long moment.

The tape came free with a nigh-imperceptible snick.

Econ. Logan’s fingernails were ragged at the edges from biting.

Econ-your-mom-ics.

The crumpled-up note came sailing back over without a response—he caught it half an inch from his forehead and tucked it into the waterbottle pouch of his backpack before carefully sliding his chair back and leaning forward, far enough to rest his chin on top of the divider.

Logan’s work station was a disaster. Hurricane Tremblay has entered the building, he thought as Logan’s marking of a demand curve slowed to a stop. Highlighters of three different sizes were scattered among half a dozen pens and dull pencils. A thin layer of used-eraser confetti littered every page and worksheet.

Logan had switched to a blue pen—one of Finn’s, he realized. Likely borrowed during their last study session. Finn pressed his chin harder to the wooden edge and waited. Always patient. Logan would crack soon.

Ever so slowly, Logan looked up at him from under his lashes. His hands flattened over his notes. He would have looked immensely unimpressed if Finn didn’t know better.

The cold press of a ballpoint to the tip of his nose was…not unwelcome, but not unexpected. Finn scrunched his face up and heard a short, amused exhale. The pen retreated. Logan was really smiling now, tiny and mischievous. “There.” He was always better at whispering than Finn. “Rudolph’s fucked-up cousin.”

Finn had to duck into his sweater at that, shoulders shaking with the force of a contained bark of laughter. The girl next to them made a show of turning up her music in her earbuds. God, he should feel bad, shouldn’t he? They should go home—go to their room and try one more time to be productive without the laws of Harvard’s libraries looming over them. Percy had been trying to convince him to bring one of the library lamps home for ages.

Logan finally looked away from his notebook, grinning wildly as he shook his head and gave Finn’s forehead a light push. The chair creaked when Finn sat again and scooted forward. He didn’t even want to think about how old these things were, or he’d start getting philosophical. It was much more fun to wax poetic about the importance of Harvard history regarding antique chairs when he was drunk and in Will’s care for the evening.

Logan would listen, Finn thought as he woke his computer up and flexed his hands over the keyboard. Some of the letters were worn nearly bare from his fingers. Logan would laugh at him, but he would listen. He could hear it now. Okay, Harz. Uh-huh. Oh, really? Should I leave you and the chairs alone for a while?

No, no, he would say. I gotta show you. You gotta know.

Logan would shake his head again. Finn figured he’d have a fifty-fifty chance of getting Logan to come with him on a late-night library run versus letting him wrangle him back to bed. He’d be happy either way.

For now, Microsoft Word was waiting with a heading, six sources, and an impatient cursor tapping its foot over his bolded [TITLE!!!!] notation.

--

Midnight came and went between paragraphs four and five. The girl next to them packed her things five minutes later, slinging her satchel over her shoulder as if it weighed eight hundred pounds.

Logan dropped a pen—black, this time—just after one o’clock.

The library lights flickered when the clock hit 1:30. They gathered their things, not bothering to pack their bags, and relocated to the first floor’s 24-hour room with the rest of the pitiful souls relinquishing their night to the altar of academia.

Finn’s eyes began to burn at 2:37.

The first soft snore sounded at 2:51.

He had been so good. So good. He hadn’t bothered Logan at all, not counting the friendly slap to the back of his head when he came back from the bathroom. Nine glorious pages of semi-decent analysis were finally in existence.

The next snore was a touch louder, like Logan had breathed away whatever muffled it before. Finn leaned up on his elbows to see over the edge and smiled to himself at the curls pressed flat to spiraled aluminum. Logan’s lips were parted on the paper. His pencil—back to the pencil? Finn would never understand him—hung limp in the valley of his thumb. His other hand rested on the back of his neck, like he had been supporting himself on it before sleep made him slump right over.

“Tremz. Logan. Hey, number ten.”

Logan’s finger twitched.

Finn sat back, stretched his leg out, and landed a light kick on Logan’s shin. He heard a snort before Logan’s jolt reached his foot. “Calice de crisse—”

“Good morning.”

Logan was blinking hard and slow when Finn leaned up again, both hands wrapped around the table edge and maybe, maybe, one foot on earth. “When time?”

“It’s three o’clock.”

“…practice?”

“In the morning.”

Logan nodded, slothlike, eyelids drooping. Graphite stamped the round part of his cheek; he scratched at it, yawned, and stretched both arms out in front of himself in an Oscar-worthy performance of someone who was any kind of awake.

“We should go back,” Finn suggested.

“Non. All-nighter.”

“It’s officially morning.”

Logan exhaled through his nose for several seconds. He was staring into the middle distance again, right along the seam of their barrier. “I have another chapter.”

I ‘ave anuzzer shapter. Soft, and low, and raspy. So close to his morning voice, but not quite. Finn nudged him with his toe. His heart gave a flip at Logan’s light frown. “I’m going to run through my paper one more time,” he offered. “We can head out after that.”

Logan looked up at him, the picture of confusion. “You’re going running?”

“Editing.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Okay.”

“Finish your chapter.”

“Okay.”

He cracked his knuckles twice before bending over his notes. One hand rubbed through the back of his hair, left long for the end of the season. He’d probably get it cut over winter break. Finn sort of didn’t want him to.

There was a throbbing behind Finn’s eye that had started somewhere around his first attempt at a concluding paragraph. His fingertips were numb and his wrists were sure to hurt as soon as he stopped writing. He wasn’t sure when exactly his mouth had gone so dry, but it had, and he spared a moment’s thought toward the drink station in the lobby. They always had coffee around finals—it was decent, if a little burnt. He wondered if they’d have mint tea.

Logan’s pencil moved audibly slower than before. Loops and swirls and scratches, a language Finn would never understand. Words were his place: endless white pages and safe letters to curl up in. But numbers and statistics, the things with straight answers, were all for Logan’s clever mind.

Those same words echoed in his head and blurred as he scrolled through a halfhearted read-through. It wasn’t long before he shut his dying laptop and finally let it rest, sagging low in his chair. He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. It would be easy to fall asleep here, with Logan’s foot against his and the gentle sounds of the library wrapping him up.

“Harzy.”

“ ‘m awake.”

“I’m not.” Something tapped the back of Finn’s hand. “Allez, or I’m leaving without you.”

As if. Finn took the proffered hand without opening his eyes and let Logan pull him up, groaning at the pinch in his legs. The crinkle of paper as he shoved it into his bag made him wince, but that was a problem for the morning. It looked like Logan hadn’t bothered to organize, either.

“Zipper,” Logan reminded him, not looking up from his phone. “I don’t want to hear you complain about more lost pens.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why you have me.”

How Finn wished that was true.

“You know, I read something kind of neat earlier,” he said as they left the study room. At Logan’s hum of mild interest, he turned to walk backward for a few steps. “I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see is another human. Kinda nice to think about, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“I dunno.” Logan tapped them out of the library with his ID. Finn hadn’t bothered to reach for his own in a long time. He smiled to himself as December bit their cheeks, jostling Logan’s shoulder at the first scrape of brick below their feet. “I like it.”

“You would.”

“Shut up.”

“Non.”

“Yon.”

#finn ohara #logan tremblay #finnlo #harvard finnlo #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #studying #all-nighters

[marmarifer]

Finn and Logans first kiss.

This is one of my favorite Coast to Coast moments. Characters belong to @lumosinlove 💗

#lumosinlove #finnlo #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #sweater weather #coast to coast #o’knutzy #boys in love #harvard finnlo #breakaway

[itsaash]

Hamptons Cubs continued....

We've got history together

The prompts from @noots-fic-fests have been invaluable in actually getting this AU written, with the character credit of course to @lumosinlove

Remember when personal chef Leo was invited by sweetheart Finn to bring his boyfriend up for the week to his house in the Hamptons? But then I left you on a cliffhanger on how Finn and Logan knew each other?? like 3 months ago?? Here's their backstory! (about 2000 words, rated T)

Read on ao3

Finn, for some unknowable reason, was taking History 1039: First Empires: Power and Propaganda in the Ancient World, and was actually looking forward to it each week. It was a smile in a crowd, a time slot highlighted deep green (which was the colour for good things, peaceful things), a moment to look forward to amid his absolutely manic final semester. And well, if he was being honest with himself, it was the time he saw Tremblay. Logan Tremblay. At a heavy wooden table, absolutely surrounded by reference books, he had learned Logan had played hockey as a kid, as Finn had too, and they’d traded hockey nicknames, seldom used now, and Tremzy had been a fixture in his colour-coded, highly precise day planner. Because if it wasn’t in the planner, it didn’t happen, and he needed those study sessions to happen.

Finn had known since freshman year that he needed another history class and had been putting it off, so here he was in his final semester, finally taking one. And the flutter in his heart whenever he sat down by Logan during the lectures made him appreciate his top notch procrastination skills.

The problem, one of the problems, is that history textbooks aren’t actually well written. Finn would find himself writing ‘we need to pick a theme here and stick to it’ in the margins. His book was marked up to the nines, comma splices fixed, bright orange highlighter over unnecessary details that only clog up the plot, and plenty of sky blue ballpoint pen notes of ‘where are we going with this?’.

But in this class he was expected to remember all those orange details? And had to write essays about the confusing dates and names and meandering themes? He should’ve picked a history class that covered a decade, tops. Any decade would do. This class was so broad it made his head spin. But, another class wouldn’t have had Tremzy in it, so.

So, their highly exclusive study group of two took up a permanent Wednesday evening slot of deep green in the planner. Logan could remember the dates and details and helped Finn with mnemonics so he could remember them too. They made up back-story and funny details to help Finn’s brain tie together a rambling plot. And Finn would read the textbook aloud to Logan on the days where he was too tired to read the English words and the scenes of ancient history would dance in the air between them as they helped each other learn.

The old fashioned study room had huge white candles in sconces around the room and the candles dripped their wax down the sides, within the glass containers. Finn stared at the patterns the wax made on the outside of the candle, tried to read them like tea leaves. Tried to remember dates and names and if that shade of green had always been the one associated with good things? The light from the candles sparkled off the glass holders and Finn knew that green would always mean good, now.

They were just weeks away from the end of the semester now, final essays in the final editing phase (the part Finn was actually good at. Logan may have learned quickly to send Finn his absolute earliest drafts, just to enjoy the sight of him opening his case of markers and highlighters with a flourish and smile). The sun was staying out later now, still shining as their evening study sessions went on into the night. They found themselves invited to a party at the hockey house after going to watch a Crimson game together. They had traded stories of their successes in junior hockey, and an injured player watching from the stands had joined their conversation and invited them to a party.

“Bruh, it’s gonna be summer vibes. We’re bringing on summer early. Wear florals or some shit. The chicks dig florals.”

Finn laughed, “I can probably manage that.”

“Make your outfit as colourful as your papers, Harzy,” Logan had teased. The player, Wags, upon hearing of Finn’s editing skills had desperately begged Finn to do just a quick edit of his last English paper. Finn agreed, laughing.

“Harzy, you’re a beaut! Fuckin comin through like a champ. Ok I gotta go join the boys for intermission pep talk but come by the house Saturday! Drinks all night for you two!” He pointed his crutch back at Finn and Logan as he walked away, “fuckin florals!”

Logan laughed and bumped Finn’s shoulder, “Yeah, Harzy, you beaut.”

Finn bumped Logan back. “Shut up. Roping me into editing in exchange for drinks. And you’re the one with flow,” he said, hitting the back of his hand into the bottom of Logan’s dark curls, which did flow just past his ears.

“Come on, as if your hair isn’t the nicest in any room,” Logan scoffed. He brushed his hand past Finn’s temple as if he was dismissing Finn’s thick red hair, but the touch lingered a bit longer than a dismissal would, and Finn drew his hand back as he felt the air thicken. Their eyes locked together for a long moment. Finn swallowed.

“I should head home,” Logan said, standing up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Essay to finish. Colour coded editing to decipher.”

Finn laughed, tried to make it sound natural and not high and tight.

“Yeah, ok. If we stay here any longer we’ll start calling each other bruh.”

“Yeah, put a red line right through that shit, Harz,” Logan laughed. And the air settled back to normal around them, for now.

But they did call each other bruh the rest of the week.

~~~

The party was fun. Wags came through with the drinks and introduced Finn in every room as “a total lifesaver, bruh.”

They’d danced, and played beer pong (Logan was unfairly coordinated, even amidst a house full of athletes), and debated music and majors with the other students.

But by midnight Finn and Logan were happy to leave the hockey players to their ever stranger games, and Finn walked with Logan back to his dorm. They collapsed into one of the couches in the sitting room off the main entry, it seemed no one was partying here tonight.

“Have fun, Tremzy?” Finn asked through a yawn. Logan tipped his head back against the couch and was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah, it was fun. Do you miss it? Hockey? And the built-in friends?” Finn also tilted his head back, and turned his head towards Logan. He waved a hand in the air. “Yes, and no. The sport itself, I loved, would totally play some more. And I made some awesome friends. But the locker room culture overall isn’t quite where I wish it was? It made it hard, in the end, and I just stopped having fun.”

“Ouias, même chose. And I just wanted to focus on other things.”

They sat for a long minute beside each other, heads resting back and looking at each other. Something switched in the air, like one of the sconce candles had been lit, all of a sudden, on. And Finn leaned over and was kissing Logan before he even knew he was going to.

Logan was still for just a moment before he threaded his hand into Finn’s hair and pulled him closer. Finn held Logan’s jaw in both his hands, unbearably gently, and they settled into each other, the press and movement of lips against lips, jaw, ear, neck.

“I’m not gay,” Logan murmured against his mouth, after some minutes, and Finn backed away slightly.

“That’s ok, that’s fine,” Finn said. He kept his hand cupping Logan’s jaw, never wanted to touch anything else after this sacred skin against his fingertips. “I think I’m bi, but lately there have been more guys in my mind, so who knows.” Not guys, the inner editor in his mind corrected. Guy. Singular. Be specific with your words. It’s green eyes and broad shoulders that have been building a home in your mind. But Finn couldn’t make his mouth say these truths, not with Logan’s eyes looking that stormy and wild and worried.

He leaned in again, 80% of the way, ok maybe 95%, but then waited to see if Logan wanted more. Finn melted and felt like he might float away when Tremz leaned in to press their lips together again. It was soft and tentative but Logan’s grip against his bicep with one hand and side with the other transferred plenty of desire and care. Finn thought he might keep his hand on Logan’s jaw until his hand cramped, it felt so good and right there, the slight stubble soft enough to feel like the best texture toy in existence.

Their lips pressed together like a dance. For a while soft and sweet, just Logan’s fingertips on Finn’s biceps and Finn’s fingers in their new home. Then it turned hotter, deeper. They gripped tighter and moved skating fingers across each other’s chests and hips.

Finn slung a leg over both of Logan’s, still sitting beside him, not on him, but now turned fully towards each other so they could press their chests together in a gasp.

“I thought you liked girls,” Logan said, very unfortunately using his mouth to talk instead of kiss. “You talked about Hannah a lot back at the start of the semester.”

“I do like Hannah. I like a lot of people,” Finn said into the hinge of Logan’s jaw. I like you, his brain amended.

“Have there been, you said you’ve been thinking of boys? Have there been guys in your bed too?” Logan said slowly, accent heavy around the words, the sentence stumbling as his fingers traced up and down Finn’s side. Finn’s heart galloped ahead before he could answer. He pulled back slightly, feeling that Logan really wanted an answer.

“Well, no, not lately. I mean, I have … well I’ve had a lot of people in my bed honestly. But lately, no, no guys in my bed for ... quite some time.” At least two months, Finn thought. A bit more? Which in retrospect was not the norm for him, but he honestly hadn’t noticed the lack these past weeks. “Why? Are there guys in your bed? You haven’t told me about anyone you’ve hooked up with.”

Logan just shook his head, fingers gripping into Finn’s hips, but he didn’t lean in again. “No, there hasn’t been, I mean I’ve done stuff with girls, but I haven’t, merde,” Logan looked up at the ceiling before levelling his gaze at Finn. “Finn, you’re the first guy I’ve kissed.” Finn raised his eyebrows. “I honestly don’t know what, don’t know who I like,” he stuttered.

Finn traced his fingertips over Logan’s cheeks. “Do you like this?” He trailed his fingers down Logan’s neck. Logan nodded. “And this?” Finn leaned in to place a soft kiss just below Logan’s ear.

“Absolutely.” Logan tilted his neck to give Finn more access.

“Ok, well then, Tremzy, do you want to keep kissing me? You don’t have to. It’s so fine if you want to stop.”

Logan just leaned in and captured Finn’s mouth again and Finn let himself be kissed within an inch of his life.

Some time later they slowed, and stopped. They peppered small kisses across each other’s faces for a long time before actually stopping. Finn walked Logan up to his room holding hands. They kissed one more time at Logan’s door. Finn felt like the house around them may as well not be there, like he may as well be floating with Logan, under the stars, for as much as he took notice of anything other than the soft lips, the scruff of hair, the hard muscles under his hands. It felt a little bit like magic.

In the scheme of things, their history together included dozens of evenings together with books strewn about the heavy wood table, a difficult course that had been successfully navigated by the help of each other, moments of care and kindness and friendship. But that was one class, a handful of months, one kiss. Years ago.

They had continued to study after that night, proof-reading each other's essays. There had been more casual touching, a hand on a knee or a stroke across a back as they walked by, but they hadn’t kissed again. Finn thought maybe they would at the end of the semester. But then the semester ended in a whirlwind of exams and papers and best wishes from so many people and Finn had been travelling into the city to find an apartment on the weekends and doing job interviews at magazines and publishing houses. They just … hadn’t. And then he’d dropped his whole fucking bag onto the tracks that day in New York and he’d decided to switch to an android phone, and the kiss, and Tremzy, were a fond but distant memory.

Except, now here he was. Right in-fucking-front of him. At his house. For the next 10 days. With Leo. Leo was his boyfriend.

What the actual fuck.

#fic-o-ween 2023 #o'knutzy #Hamptons AU #characters by lumosinlove #harvard FinnLo

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

Happy holidays!

This year for Winter Nootmas I created my first ever moodboard for @kindofspecificstore !

Harvard FinnLo

(aka breakaway vibes for wintery times)

#sweater weather lumosinlove #winter nootmas fic exchange #my moodboard #finnlo #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #harvard finnlo #breakaway #breakaway lumosinlove #yeah Logan's rum and coke is on there lol #i just had to

[noxnights]

Harvard FinnLo Thoughts

I’ve been thinking a lot about Logan alone at Harvard after Finn went to Gryffindor, and so this is just a little snippet of how I imagine that angst. Credit to @lumosinlove for the characters.

- 

Logan always came back to this image, as if it was the only permanent thing in his life. Whether he was out with the team or lying awake staring at the ceiling he couldn’t help but return to the same painful picture: him, alone in his bed, a dark room and rumpled sheets. 

Logan could practically feel the exhaustion seep over the edges of that scene and into his body. Finn joining the NHL had only made it worse. Logan was so happy for him, but it still served as a reminder of what he’d long since known, this was the only future he was allowed. At least there was some comfort in it, in knowing exactly what his path held and how powerless he was to change it. 

Even if someone did eventually want him, he would never subject them to who he was, his complicated life and the way his brain worked; he didn’t want to be a burden. More than that, he knew it wouldn’t be fair to them, some part of him would always be thinking Finn Finn Finn. 

He turned over and pulled the covers higher, letting his back face Finn’s empty bed. He was alone, he was meant to be alone. This was best for everyone, he just had to keep reminding himself of that. He just had to stop thinking about Finn.

#lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #harvard #finnlo #Coast To Coast #fanfic #angst #finn ohara #sweater weather #ficlet if it can even be called that #harvard finnlo #drabble

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

Soulmate Sunday

Soulmate AU: Your thoughts about your soulmate show up on your skin.

Couple: FinnLo

TW: cussing, internalized homophobia

——————————————————————

The first time Logan felt the tingling around his wrist he was in the middle of a huge lecture and he completely froze. Wrapped around his wrist was a simple, cursive "pretty”. Logan felt his heart stop. His head whipped up and he quickly scanned the room but no one was looking. He didn’t comprehend a thing during that lecture, too busy trying to figure out which of these near 300 people are his soulmate. The bad thing about soulmates is that once your soulmate sees you they can think about you whenever they want. Their words are wrapped around your skin whether you’re with them or not

After the first day of class Logan’s wrist almost always had something on it. Simple things such as “pretty”, “funny”, “cute”. He didn’t know if he was friends with the person or if they just think about him a lot. When he realizes it’s his roommate, Finn, he freaks the fuck out.

Because no. No no no. There was no way that his soulmate was a guy. He’d never even thought of guys like that.

Well

Not in years

…

Months

…

Days

But he’d been doing good. He’d been repressing it, they were just passing thoughts, but if Finn figures it out it’s all screwed.

So, new mission. Keep Finn From Finding Out or KFFFO for short.

He’d kept his secret for about five months. He was doing so good.

But then they got tipsy and Finn was sad and Logan didn’t know how to deal with that. It hurt him to his core to see his best friend who was normally a ball of energy just laying there in his bed silently.

Logan knew he was supposed to be keeping his distance but SCREW IT. He flopped on the bed next to Finn and crawled under the covers, carefully guiding Finn’s head to his shoulder. “What’s wrong.” Finn cuddled closer and Logan tries to pretend his heart wasn’t racing because of it. “I just want my soulmate to like me.”

That…

Was not what he was expecting

“Why wouldn’t he like you?” Finn lifted his shirt slightly to show Logan his hipbone. Keep it together, keep it tothether. And then, just like the first time, Logan froze. Because written on Finn’s hip was a small and simple

No

Logan watched as it morphed into a small sorry. Finn didn’t look at it, he just smiled sadly at Logan. “I don’t even know what that means. Logan why am I so disappointing that my soulmate thinks of me and immediately thinks, no?” Logan’s heart shattered. He can’t take it and he’s a little passed tipsy and he’s just kept it a secret for so long.

“Finn.” It was quiet but they were so close that Finn couldn’t have missed it. “Hmm?”

“I know your soulmate.”

“What?”

“I know who your soulmate is.”

They fell quiet for a while after that. Finn was still but Logan was shaking. Finn grabbed his hand tightly and whispered a quiet “Who?”. Logan was certain his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “Me.”

The hand around his squeezed impossibly tighter. “What?” Logan tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling trying to hold back the familiar burn of his eyes.

“It’s me. Finn there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I was just so fucking scared, Finn. I had been hiding it for so long and then all of a sudden to have it thrust right back in my face. I didn’t know what to do. Everytime I thought about you like that I would shut it down because you are my best friend, Finn, and there is nothing I would ever want to do to make me hate me. Finn what if you had found out and decided you didn’t want to date me? What if you decided that you would find someone else because I wasn’t good enough to be your soulmate. I’m not even out how the hell am I supposed to be good enough to be your soulmate? What if fate made a mistake? What if-”

Finn sucked in a sharp breath and cut him off piercingly. “Logan.” Logan went silent immediate. His heart was racing and he had silent tears running down his face. He was still shaking but it had somehow turned into sporadic whole body trembles. “Logan, breathe.” Finn had lifted his head off of Logan’s chest but for some reason it felt like there was more weight pressing down than there was with his head still there.

Finn reached out and cupped his cheek in his hand. “Logan, I need you to breathe and listen to me. There is no universe, no world where I would not want you back. Do you understand that? Fate didn’t make a mistake putting us together. They knew exactly what they were doing. It knew that you would need help coming to terms, which is absolutely fine, and they know I would do everything in my power to help. I’m not judging you, Logan. I am not going to force you to come out or get mad if you wait. If there were anyone I wanted it to be it was you. Sure it hurt for a while and I didn’t understand, but all you had to do was talk to me. I hope you know you can always talk to me.”

Logan’s face shuttered and then he was sobbing loudly. Stupid fucking alcohol.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He blubbered. Finn shushed him gently and pulled him into his side so that he could rest his head in the crook of Finn’s neck. “It’s okay. Lo, baby, you’re fine.”

Logan was acutely aware of how disgusting he was making Finn’s shirt but Finn didn’t seem to care. He simply held him close and ran a hand through his hair. Logan, ironically enough, had never felt as calm as he did in that moment. Sobbing uncontrollably and shaking violently as Finn whispered sweet nothings and rocked them both slowly.

Finn kissed his forehead. “We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #pre o'knutzy #finnlo #harvard finnlo #soulmate sunday #soulmate au

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

May Part Four

cw: discussion of past abuse; injury description (no blood)

note: Ao3 appears to be down, but...it’s been a long time coming and finally May p.4, otherwise known to me as The Brothers Chapter, is finally ready! <3

Remus had begun dreaming of the cottage. Lake soil, campfires, and sun-warmed wood. When he woke up, it brought a smile to his face. When he looked around, remembered just where he was and what they all were in the middle of, it made him feel guilty.

There was no time for dreaming of summer. Not right now.

But ground workouts and basketball was turning Sirius’ skin gold, so much so that he even brought the budding summer into the harsh, blue lights of the practice rinks. His eyes lightened—concentrated, gray mountain waters—and the cut on his cheek from that pick-up shot faded to a pink line. Lily and Celeste bothered about dates and venues, caterers and flowers. Natalie wanted to know if she could sing a few songs. They took his parents out to dinner, Julian wanting to re-watch highlights of the two games until even Sirius got tired. His mother let them be, though. If she understood anything, it was the focus that hockey took. How it became life and blood and air.

Remus dreamed of the cottage. The Stanley Cup resting on a high table somewhere, silver as Sirius’ eyes, hard-fought and hard-won. Lights strung out on the dock. Husband. Till Death. It would feel, he thought, much like a hard, celebratory slam into the boards. He wanted this particular win to be shocked into his bones and skin, hard and fast as adrenaline that could not be washed off in a shower with the sweat. Slipping the band onto Sirius’ finger, the one he’d been planning out for months now. Silver. Silver, silver, silver, wrapping around both of their lives. Clutched beneath hands, raised above head, brought to lips, finding him in any room.

“What about this one?”

Sirius was holding out a fork to him. Silver. Remus let him nudge it between his lips and chewed thoughtfully. Vanilla. Raspberry filling. Too sweet frosting.

“I think I like the chocolate better,” he said.

“Tu n’aimes pas la vanille.” Sirius went in for another bite, shaking his head. “I don’t get it.”

Remus laughed. “I’m sorry, but literally all of the chocolate ones are better than that.”

“I don’t know, Loops, the vanilla cinnamon is kind of to die for.”

Remus looked across the round table at Leo, whose tasting card was filled with notes in the margins. He was scribbling something now even as he smiled slyly at Remus.

“You just like feeding it to Logan,” Remus said.

Logan, who had scooted his chair so close to Leo that he could have been half in his lap, nodded. “Ouais.” He nudged his nose against Leo’s shoulder until Leo scooped up his fork again and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders as he leaned forward to choose another bite for him.

“He’s sweet like cinnamon, what can I say? Little spicy, too.” Leo said, and Logan put his head on Leo’s shoulder as he chewed. “You know, most people get a sugar high. Why does it calm you down?”

“You calm me down,” Logan said. He lifted his head up and looked over at one of the neighboring tables. “Dev, what do you think?”

Luke was sitting beside Saint and Evgeni, looking only a little uncomfortable. He shrugged and held up his card. “This seem like a lot of numbers for something as simple as cake.”

Sirius, to Remus’ surprise, laughed. “Agreed.”

Luke smiled a little. “Rankings? I feel like I just have a favorite.”

Saint made a tisking sound. “Tweedle, eat your Victorian sponge and stop complaining.”

“I say this one.” Evgeni brandished a fork with what looked like a sample of lemon. “So good, come on. Not even big choice, this is it!” He ignored the fork and picked up the rest of the slice with his hand, grinning as he chewed. “Cap, c’mon!”

Sirius raised his cup of coffee towards him. “Thanks, Kuns.” He took a sip and wrapped an arm around the back of Remus’ chair. “Why did we invite the entire team again?”

Remus leaned over him to get at the chocolate and buttercream. “Because we love them. But…you know. We’re never gonna make a decision now.”

“Maybe we just give everyone their cake of choice.”

“Real practical of us.”

“All right, Le,” Finn said, clapping his hands together. “Lo, cover his eyes.”

Logan arched a brow but was soon smiling in understanding. He reached out to cover Leo’s eyes with a palm.

“Hey,” Leo said. “Why?”

Finn and Logan just laughed silently as they both reached forward to scramble the cards labeling which cake was which.

“Hold on,” Finn said.

“Wait,” Logan added, and pushed around a few plates, too.

“Oh, good one,” Finn said. “All right, go.”

Logan uncovered Leo’s eyes, blue blinking against the light. “Match the cake to the card.”

“Oh.” Leo grinned and clapped his hands together. “Hit me, Greenie.”

Logan made a face. “Greenie?”

Leo shrugged. “It slipped out. Pick one.”

“All the way on the left,” Remus cut in, pointing. “That one.”

Leo took a fork full and chewed thoughtfully. “German chocolate, so easy.” He put the right card in front of it. Remus caught Sirius’ eye, and he thought they were both smiling at the feeling in the room. Remus leaned in, relishing in the twenty different threads of attention that were being woven around them. It left them in the eye of the storm, calm and cloudy.

“I’ve been thinking of the cabin.”

Sirius looked over at him just as Leo put another card in place. Chocolate Blackout. He smeared some across Finn’s pale cheek, leaving a dark streak behind. Logan leaned across him, grabbed Finn’s chin in his hand, and licked it right up.

“Will you please find your chill?” Alex called from his place next to Natalie and Kasey.

“No,” Finn called back.

“The cabin,” Sirius repeated. “To go this summer?” His cup clinked against its saucer as he set it down. “Ouais, of course.”

Remus just shook his head and took his hand, resting their pressed-together palms on his thigh. Sirius’ face opened up.

“Wedding,” he said.

Remus nodded, and when Sirius smiled, so did he.

~

Leo had suggested the pier where Finn’s birthday had been, and it had become a sort of default image for anyone thinking about the wedding. Sunny. Food trucks. A beautiful place, really, and in the heart of this city that meant so much to all of them.

But Remus had seen the look that had crossed Sirius’ face. Public. Very public. No way to keep out any unwanted visitors. Remus understood, but in the dark, window-filled gloss of the bus taking them from JFK airport to their hotel for Game Three in Madison Square Garden, Sirius finally whispered the fear to him.

“I’m scared that they’re going to show up.”

He’d pushed himself further with his nose tucked up under Remus’ chin once they were in the hotel bed, making the tightly tucked sheets feel warm just by being together.

“I know they can’t hurt me. Or you. I don’t want them near Reg.” A long, long pause, and then a voice tight with tears. “I don’t want them near Jules.”

An even longer pause, accompanied only by the stroke of Remus’ fingers through his hair, letting him keep his eyes closed, letting him take his time.

“I hate that I cry when I talk about this,” Sirius whispered. “But…I don’t mind crying in front of you so much anymore.”

“They won’t show up,” Remus said. He pressed a kiss to Sirius’ forehead, pushing away the dark waves to do it. Golden skin, soaking in the light he was never given. “Besides, between Hope and your mother, who do you think would win?”

“I don’t want Hope to have to fight for me,” Sirius said. “I want it to be…” He swallowed around the tears. “They won’t show up.”

“No,” Remus said. “But I’m telling you for any day, any time. You’re not facing it alone.” Remus turned on his side. “And when I put that ring on your finger, when you put another one on mine…” Sirius’ cheeks were wet, his lips, when Remus kissed him. “It’s because I love you more than anything.”

Sirius’ hand reached up and pressed between Remus’ shoulders. “The cabin is perfect. I don’t think I said that before. Re, it’s perfect.”

“I know.” Giddiness spilled through Remus’ chest. Sirius was getting better at this part. Hard words didn’t mean a hard night. There was happiness. “I’ll marry you, then I’ll push you in the lake.”

There was happiness.

Nothing could have proved those words truer than the laugh Sirius let out into the dark room.

~

“You boys have been doing that to your bread since I can remember.” Haley O’Hara shook her head at her two sons, both with globs of the soft part of the bread being rolled between their fingers.

Finn just smiled and held his up. “Bread balls, Mom.” He added his to the pile he and Alex had accumulated, as if they were preparing snowballs for a fight.

“More like ammo,” Alex said. “Besides. We deserve bread balls after that game. Even if you stupid Lions did win. We’ll get you next time.” Alex reached across the table and held a fist out to Logan. “We make a good team, Tremblay.”

Logan smiled and bumped it. “Ouais.”

“Dare I say better than you and my little brother?”

Logan slapped his fist away and the table laughed.

Alex held the mush out to Kasey. “Kase, eat it.”

“Bread that you’ve been putting your hands all over for the last three minutes,” Kasey said with narrowed eyes. “Hm.”

“Oh yeah? You like my hands.”

“Alexander, control yourself.” Natalie laughed, hitting him in the arm. “It’s not like I’m sitting next to your mother or anything.”

“Hey, not news to me. You two must be doing something right. ” Haley waved her off. “I mean, damn, if you had told me I’d get so many kid-in-laws…”

Ramsey shrugged. “What was in those pregnancy vitamins you was taking, that’s what I’d like to know.”

Alex and Finn’s smiles matched from their white, straight teeth, sharp incisors, to the scrunched points of their nose.

“What can we say, Hal,” Ramsey said, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair. “We gave our boys big hearts. There’s obviously enough to go around.”

“God, guys,” Alex rubbed the side of his face, cheek red. “Okay, all right.”

“No, no,” Natalie said. “Please keep making him blush.” She pecked Alex on the cheek. “You started it, also.”

Finn was half in disbelief, looking around at their table. The restaurant’s light was low, candles reflecting off of the shiny wood of the tables. They had bread and salt and olive oil. His dad had tasted the wine, a light red for their pasta. Leo on his right, Logan on his left. Leo’s gentle, just-the-two of them smiles. Logan’s hand on his thigh under the table. It all felt so normal. Like he had always, always been meant to end up here.

“Well, I guess I’ll take a moment before all the food gets here.” Ramsey picked up his glass.

Finn, as he got older, was able to see more and more of himself in his father. He’d always been able to see himself in his mother, but his link to his dad was subtler. Smile lines and gestures. Interests and passions. A love for books. A love for hockey. Ramsey, throwing himself to the world and hoping someone would catch his fall. Ramsey, the day Haley had caught him. Finn, throwing himself with just as much trust—maybe too much trust. Until Leo, Finn hadn’t been sure he would be able to avoid the crash. He’d hung onto Logan by his fingertips for so long that he had almost come to get used to the expected, eventual drop. It was such a relief—even now, to feel Logan slide their palms together against his thigh and hold on tight, skin warm and calloused. Such a relief to watch Leo tear a bit of his bread off, roll it into a small ball, and add it to their pile.

His dad cleared his throat again. “I’m not sure who to cheers to…Rangers or Lions. So, how’s this, I guess.” He laughed and raised his glass. “To the Lions being up one, but also to a long and well-fought series. To game four in two days time,” He looked pointedly at his youngest son. “And no more close calls.”

Finn shook his head and smiled, though the motion had partially been to shake off the memory of going down hard yesterday. He’d felt everyone he loved hold their breath, even as he got right back up again, and he’d understood why when he’d later watched the replay. It hadn’t looked good. It had looked like the edge of the boards caught him in the mouth, when in truth they’d only just missed him.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Haley said. “So, I’ll make a cheers of my own.” She picked up her wine. “Here’s to love—big and small and in twos and threes. We know it was hard there for a while.” She smile softly. “Kasey, Lo, we’re just so happy that…Ugh, god damn, you know.” She blinked fast, laughing.

Beneath the table, Logan’s thumb swiped over Finn’s knuckles three times.

“What’s life without a little rain,” Alex said. He was fingering his necklace.

“Blondies to the rescue, eh?” Ramsey laughed, reaching out to tussle Leo’s hair.

“We have a knack for it.” Natalie raised her glass and clinked it with Leo’s.

“Hey, I’m blond,” Kasey said.

“You’re dirty blond,” Natalie replied.

Alex smiled, stretching a hand around the back of Kasey’s chair. “Now who started it?” Natalie stuck her tongue out at him.

“Goalies to the rescue, then,” Logan said. He drew their hands out from beneath the table, letting them rest on the wood beside the bread. Finn stared at their hands, maybe for too long. It was an old dream come to life. He used to knock elbows with Logan at team dinners and wonder what might happen if he just…just for a second, grabbed his hand. And now there they were, laced together.

“Leo,” Haley said. “I know I could say where would these two—” she gestured between Finn and Logan. “—knuckleheads be without you, but I think it’s much more than that. Soulmates aren’t just two halves, I know that for sure now. Finn lights up in ten different colors when you’re around.”

Finn could feel one of those colors heating his cheeks. “Mom…”

But he looked at Leo and grabbed his hand, too. If he didn’t eat dinner, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let go.

“And Natalie.” Haley grinned brighter. “Here’s to what is sure to be an absolutely stunning wedding.”

“Two weddings,” Natalie said, flashing dark eyelashes at Alex. “Eventually.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but Finn knew his brother. He knew his brother by how their hearts pounded alike, hard and in free-fall.

After, when the others were calling their Ubers, Alex put a hand on his shoulder and drew him back. They had accidentally worn the same shirt—navy button down, the top two undone. Finn wasn’t even sure they had the excuse of having both received it for Christmas or their birthday, he was fairly certain it had simply happened.

“Let’s walk,” Alex said. “Like we used to?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He turned to Leo and dropped a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll meet you at home?”

Leo nodded. “Love you.” He turned Finn’s face back towards him for another, proper kiss, then whispered softly, just for the two of them. “Harz?”

Finn rubbed a palm up his side. Leo looked stunning tonight. White button-down rolled up at the forearms, accenting his tan skin and rainbow bracelet. Logan’s necklace against his chest.

“I love your family,” he whispered. “I love getting to know Alex more…and I love knowing that me, you, and Lo aren’t the only ones like us out there.”

Finn, of course, in free-fall as he was, instantly got choked up. “Le…They love you, too. I love you.”

Leo smiled. “Also, thanks for dinner.”

After much bickering with Alex and a my baby’s all grown up from his father, Finn had been allowed to pick up the check.

“Everything that’s mine is yours,” Finn said.

Leo tilted forward and kissed him hard before ducking into the car, smiling.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” His mother wrapped her arms around him, hand rubbing his back. “Don’t let your brother keep you out too late.”

He squeezed her shoulders as she pulled back. “No problem, Mom.”

She smiled up at him, stroking a hand through his hair. He felt her fingers pause at the back of his skull. The very points of his concussions. Her smile wavered, just a tad. He hated that he could do that to her. His carefree, always smiling mother. He’d made her cry twice. He didn’t even want to think about what might’ve gone through her mind tonight.

“My beautiful boy,” she said. “Be safe, okay, baby?”

Finn nodded. “We’re okay, Mom. We’re just going for a walk.”

“I know,” she said. She straightened his collar. “I know. Okay, okay, I’m getting in the car now.”

Finn smiled. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you too, Fish. Not sure how I feel about this beard, though.”

“You and me both!” Leo called from the car.

“Oh, hard no, I love it,” Natalie said.

“They’re talking about Finn, hon.” Kasey said, laughing.

“Once love an O’Hara beard, always love an O’Hara beard.”

“I like it.”

Finn looked over at Logan, who had spoke. He had his elbows on the car door. Waiting to say goodnight, Finn realized. Summery wind ruffled his dark hair and his green eyes stood out in the street light.

He stepped aside for Haley to get into the car beside Ramsey and looked up at Finn.

Finn put a hand on his cheek. “Guess what?”

Logan tilted his chin into Finn. He looked so good, too. As firm as ever, at the peak of his strength at this point in the season. Finn wanted to undo the buttons of his shirt one-by-one and watch them reveal his chest, the hills and valleys of his strength that Finn could run his mouth over a hundred times. The dark ink at his hip.

“I like holding your hand at dinner tables,” Finn said. He could tell him the rest later.

Logan smiled, small and private, and then his eyes landed on Alex waiting on the sidewalk a few steps away. Finn looked back at him, quiet. He was well versed in Logan. He didn’t need words. But Logan gave them now, and Finn collected them like precious coins.

Logan put a hand on Finn’s chest, making him step down off the curb and onto the lower street. He then stepped up onto the curb, bringing them closer in height, and kissed Finn goodnight. Wind picked up and surrounded him with Logan, who could probably feel Finn’s heart pick up, too, beneath his palm.

“You should tell him,” Logan said. “Everything.”

Everything. Finn wondered how long it would take for something like that to even come out. In the right way. Using the right words.

“Yeah.” Finn took a breath. “Yeah, I think I will.”

~

Remus had had something on his mind the entire plane ride, Sirius had been sure of it. Coach had made them all swear to a ten AM practice tomorrow morning before their flight back to Gryffindor for Game Four, and then let them loose for an evening off. Part of Sirius wanted to fall into their hotel bed, arms tucked around Remus’ waist, and just sleep. Up one, his mind chanted at him. Up one, up one, hold on hold onto it hold onto it.

It had taken watching Finn’s parents pick up Finn, Leo, Logan, Alex, Natalie, and Kasey for dinner to realize that the voice chanting inside his head belonged to his father. After that, it seemed hilarious that he would ever be able to sleep.

Remus, of course, as usual, could read his mind.

He surprised Sirius every day, but as he wordlessly took Sirius’ hand and lead him out of the hotel, he didn’t even look at a map before leading them effortlessly down the street. They reached a set of stairs marked by a huge C, and Remus swiped a card and they were on a train with a matching letter.

“I didn’t know you knew how to navigate the subway.”

“While the team took car services everywhere, I took the trains,” Remus replied. “It’s nice to feel like you can get anywhere on your own.”

When Sirius stumbled at a particularly hard jerk of the car, Remus’ arm circled his waist, warm through his shirt, and kept him steady—though he was definitely laughing at him.

“Shut up,” Sirius grumbled, eyeing two young women who were not holding onto anything and had hardly swayed an inch.

“My ten foot tall baby lion.” Remus angled his head up, asking for a kiss. “Still growing into his paws. Better hold on tight.”

Sirius ducked his smile into Remus’ soft mouth and lay his fingers over Remus’ on the metal pole.

The street they came up on was filled with restaurants and outdoor cafe tables. Each glow held something. Soft candles. The sound of a cocktail shaker interrupting the beat of music. Laughter. Wine glasses catching the light. The scent of basil, or steak. A waiter bringing out a birthday cake and a guy half covering his embarrassed grin while his friends sang to him, loud and off-key.

Anonymous. These people were living, simple and true, in the gentle May night.

“Here we are,�� Remus said.

A blinking sign and steep stairs down. Sirius could hear the jazz filtering upward.

“Are you…taking me dancing again?”

“Technically I’m taking you dancing for the first time.” Remus squeezed their locked hands and gave him the grin that Sirius felt no one else understood. It would seem sly to a stranger, but it wasn’t. There was nothing tricky about it. This was the look Remus reserved for when he knew he had taken a turn that both of them wanted. “You took me last time.”

The two tickets Remus bought took them down to a room that was small and crowded. Low ceilings had lights strung from them, and the musicians were on a slightly raised stage. Stools were pushed close together at the bar, out of the way for those dancing, but Remus managed to find them two. He ordered ginger beers.

“I figure you wouldn’t want to drink just now,” he said, complete with a kiss to Sirius’ shoulder.

Sirius felt just as anonymous as all of the others around them. A couple beside them even asked what they did for a living. He and Remus shared a look, and then Sirius hid his laugh in the straw of his drink when Remus vaguely answered, “Sports Entertainment.”

The set changed as they sat there, new musicians replacing the old ones. Bass, piano, drums, trumpet. Couples swirled around them, old and young. Some in suits and dresses, some in t-shirts and shorts. Sirius’ eye caught on two men, middle-aged, holding each other close and laughing at something that looked secret, just for the two of them. As they turned slow, he caught the flash of two gold bands on their fingers.

Sirius took a last sip of their drinks before taking Remus’ out of his hand and setting it down.

“Forget the drinks,” Sirius said, and took Remus’ hand. “Come here.”

No one looked twice. That was the best part. When Sirius wrapped Remus up close and Remus looped his hands around Sirius’ neck, no one was taken away from the music. They could simply sway there together.

“You look handsome, mon loup,” Sirius said, leaning in to press their cheeks together. “I can’t believe how handsome you are.”

“Look who’s talking,” Remus’ voice said in his ear. They were just in t-shirts, Remus wearing dark-washed jeans and plain sneakers. He could have been in a perfectly tailored suit, for all Sirius saw. He would always look just as good. The song was slow and right out of a movie, one of the ones Finn and Leo made them watch sometimes. Sirius felt like they should be off to a War or something. One last night with a sweetheart. Maybe, in a way, they were. In the middle of one, at least.

“Sirius?” Remus whispered.

“Ouais?”

“I know this year’s been hard for us. But I want you to know…I want you to know it’s also been one of the best of my life. And I don’t mean the NHL.”

Sirius smiled and took Remus’ hand from around his neck briefly to press a kiss to the ring there.

“And I know it’s been hard making this second run for the Cup.” Remus’ fingers laced around the back of Sirius’ neck. “And with your parents, with everything that’s being brought up.” He leaned up on his toes and Sirius held him tighter in his arms. “You’re just…”

“Just what?”

The piano took over from the trumpet solo and there was a some light applause. He liked the lights in here. They lit the edges of Remus’ hair like fireflies.

He thought maybe Remus would pull back to look him in the eye, but he didn’t. He kept them close.

“I’m proud of you. You’re my—you’re mine,” Remus said. “You’re my love but you’re also…you protect me. I just want you to know that.”

Mine. Mine. How did it sound so sweet coming from Remus, and never anywhere else?

“I want you to know,” Remus whispered again. Sirius closed his eyes.

Go, go, go. Again, again. Regulus’ face, young and afraid. They had never looked as though their home was an ill place. Perfect nutrition. Perfect sleeping habits. Perfect grades. It hadn’t occurred to him until years later, with Pascal sitting on the edge of his bed.

Perfection is an unfair thing to ask, Pascal had said. Very unfair.

Pascal’s face, sad and disappointed, as Sirius had left him sitting there in the hallway. He wanted to talk about it. He did.

“What if I couldn’t?” Sirius swallowed. “One day. One day, what if I couldn’t protect you?”

“I couldn’t protect you from hurting your ankle,” Remus whispered. “Or your ribs. I couldn’t protect you from…”

He trailed off, but Sirius didn’t need him to finish. Sirius pulled back, though, to look at him.

Remus’ smile was shaky, eyes brimmed. He reached up to tuck Sirius’ hair behind his ear.  “Do you think I can’t protect you?”

“You saved me,” Sirius said. “Always.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe you saved me, too?”

Sirius thought he might start crying, right then and there. “I’d love to think I did.”

“And Reg.”

Sirius closed his eyes. “Not soon enough.”

Remus cupped Sirius’ cheeks in his hands and stopped dancing. A single fixed point on the floor. “What, and I got to you soon enough? You got to me?”

“Re…”

“It’s not about timing.” Remus cuddled close, as close as he could while still swaying. “We got to each other. We did it. All right?”

Sirius huffed, but smiled. Remus reached out and swiped a thumb over his bottom lip.

“You know, I’d only want you to call me yours,” Sirius said.

Remus smiled. “Wouldn’t let anyone else.” He shook his head. “I love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you,” Sirius pressed their foreheads together, then kissed him slowly. “Now let me spin you.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but allowed Sirius to turn him around once before pulling him in close again.

They took a cab back to the hotel. Close in the back seat. Remus tugging gently at Sirius’ black t-shirt. They hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, but Sirius still felt like it. Maybe from the night, the late hour. Maybe from the music. Maybe from the flash of Remus’ grin in the passing headlights. He felt almost bashful when they entered the bright hotel lobby, as if people could see it on them, how much they wanted each other, how they were in a rush to be alone again.

“Lunch with my parents and Jules tomorrow,” Remus said in the elevator. “Back in Gryf.”

Sirius only nodded, unwilling to remove his mouth from Remus’ neck. Remus had begun to arch into him, letting out a soft sound as Sirius put a hand over where he was hardening in his jeans.

The lights in their hotel room were off, the door slammed shut too loudly behind them, and Sirius drank in Remus’ laugh and oops like water.

You’re mine, everything in him sang. You’re mine.

When his back hit the cool sheets of their bed, he realized.

He hadn’t thought of the game once. Everything in him was quiet, except this.

~

Finn and Alex ended up where they always ended up. The Ship. Where they’d used fake IDs. Where they’d had some great kisses, watched some great games. The bartender knew them and slyly shooed a couple to a different table so they could have their old corner spot, close and in the heart of the restaurant, but facing each other, identical red-heads bent close.

“Two Jamesons neat, Liz, thanks,” Alex said.

Liz scoffed, throwing her brown hair off of her shoulder. “As if I don’t your drill by now.”

Finn wrapped his knuckles on the wood as he slid onto his stool. He loved this seat. He wished he could buy three of these exact stools for the apartment. Six, for each apartment, Gryffindor and New York. “Kids doing okay?”

“Oh, you know.” She rolled her eyes as she went for the top shelf. “Middle school.”

“Middle school,” Finn and Alex repeated in unison, wrinkling their noses.

She just laughed and set their glasses down. “There you go, boys. Hey, the whole place has been watching the series.”

“Oh yeah?” Alex said, taking a sip. “You like watching us duke it out?”

“You bet,” Liz called over her shoulder, going to deal with another customer.

It left them alone, soaked in familiarity.

“I love these stools,” Alex said, and Finn smiled.

“Me too.” He held out his glass. “Cheers, Al.”

Alex grinned. “To beating you.”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Nice try.”

“Fine, fine.” Alex held his glass up again. “To pulling through hard times.”

They took the first sip in silence. Alex looked towards a rowdy group, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up. Finn watched the diamond around his neck glint on its long chain. It was somehow flashier than anything Alex usually wore, and also understated. Finn took another drink. Everything.

“How are we the way we are,” Alex began softly before he could say anything. “And we never…we never talked about it all?”

“The way we are?” Finn managed to ask. He was aware of the couple at his side getting up, gathering their bags and waving a thanks to Liz. It was late, he supposed, though he felt wired enough for nine in the morning.

Alex shrugged. “We talk all the time. We talked all the time while I was in school. While you were. Saw each other every chance we got. How many weekends did you drive home to see me from Harvard? So fucking many.”

Finn could only nod. “I know.”

“So, how have we not…” Alex trailed off. He took another drink. “We never told each other anything.”

Finn wasn’t sure exactly how to tell his brother just how close he had come, and how often. The soft lingerings before hanging up the phone. He felt the same hesitation now, stuck in his throat. Everything.

What had Logan’s everything been? he wanted to know. When he’d told his sisters. Bagel shop, light on the cream cheese, wrinkling his nose at the everything bagels that Finn loved and then stealing a bite. The roof. The roof. Putting their mouths to the same bottle.

“That was such a nice dinner,” Alex said. “Jesus. Tremz fucking holding your hand the whole time.”

Finn flexed his fingers against his thigh. Logan and Leo’s skin felt ingrained in his own. “Maybe he feels like he has a little bit to prove to Mom and Dad.”

“Maybe.” Alex shrugged. “Maybe he just loves you and always has.”

Someone changed the song. Loud to soft. Finn had a flash of a memory. Watching Logan across a room, quiet music letting them find each other. Door closing. Mouths getting so close. One of the only times Logan had said his name while they were that close. He’d come so close to finally getting to kiss him. What would have happened if no one had knocked?

“He asked me if I hated him.” Alex hid the words partially behind his glass.

“What?” Alarms flew at the base of Finn’s skull.

“For doing what he did in school, yeah,” Alex said. “And—”

“And you told him you didn’t know.”

“I told him I never knew enough to hate him,” Alex clarified.

“Would you have? If you had known?”

Finn knew it was mostly curiosity that had gotten the better of him. If Finn had given Alex the chance, would he have been defensive? Angry?

Alex’s mouth pulled to the side. “Hate sounds too strong. But if I…I don’t know. I mean, you guys were best friends. I thought there was something, maybe, but…I couldn’t hate him. And you never said anything.”

“I know. I know I didn’t.”

“So, tell me now, Fish,” Alex said.

And it spilled. All of it. Out of them both. First true loves. First real ones. The first ones that had hurt as much as they’d healed. First kisses.

“Lied to me, told me we needed to take care of one of our teammates and then wouldn’t let me leave the bedroom.” Finn laughed, pinching his brow as he remembered. “Did a little more than kiss, to be honest.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” Alex laughed. “Lo went that fast that soon? Logan?”

“I know, you’d think he was too freaked, right? But…”

“What, you mean you guys…”

Finn gave him a shove. “I’m not telling you, man.”

Alex laughed. “No, no, I just mean, what, you locked the door and got busy on the bed?”

“God no. We…you know.” Finn groaned when Alex laughed. “We were like standing up—whatever, stop laughing.” Finn smiled, but felt it fade a little. “We could barely look at each other.”

Alex’s mouth pulled to one side. “Fish…”

Finn just shook his head. Logan had been tangled in him for a long time before that night, but he’d knotted something deep with that first kiss. Finn didn’t think any pair of pliers would budge these strings. That fact used to hurt. Now he was glad. He wanted Logan wound so tight and close that they didn’t know how to breathe if not together.

“For Kase and I,” Alex said. “It was after we found out he got traded.”

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“Yeah. Kissed him in the airport.”

“Oh God. Al…”

“Then later, with Nat…well, she knew how I felt. I was so damn guilty about it, but when she asked, I said I did want her. Like, God, I wasn’t going to lie. I wanted her and Kasey more than anything.” Alex raised a brow. “Leo?”

“Oh, we’d been dancing around each other since he moved in,” Finn said. “Only…Leo was so…”

Alex tilted his head. “Willing?”

“Yeah,” Finn nodded hard. “But we were still both nervous to ruin anything. Friendship, anything like that.” He took a sip, and the whiskey was as warm as the memory. “But I kissed him. And he actually wanted to talk about it afterwards…He wanted…” Finn smiled sheepishly and Alex laughed just like he had with Logan. “He could look me in the eye.” 

“I bet he could,” Alex said. “Leo’s a fucking sweetheart.”

“And he wanted to stay in bed afterwards and—and then we brought ice cream back and just sat there talking. Talking and talking…hours. And then, you know, later when Cap and Loops happened…Logan told me he loved me.” Finn shook his head, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat. “I mean, we always loved each other, but he’s in love with me and he’s actually looking right at me and he’s saying it, and then he’s holding onto me and it’s…it’s so different from…”

Nice.

The night in the ocean, warm and then so, so cold. Say something. Anything. Salt on Logan’s skin. Logan’s hands in his hair and on his back, the most he’d touched him in months. He had felt so willing, but it hadn’t been true. Not then.

“What happened?” Alex asked softly. “Where did you go just now?”

So willing.

“Do you remember when I went to Nice? With Logan.”

“Of course, I was so jealous.”

Finn let slip a ghost of a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Finn took a leisurely drink. He let himself panic for the time it took for the whiskey to warm its way down his throat.

“There was a moment,” Finn said slowly. “A moment there, in the ocean…we went for a night swim. And there was a moment when I really tried. Like, really, really tried. I put everything…you know. Flat out in the open. That I wanted him. More than anything. I really tried to…to make us something. I…I asked him…” Finn swallowed. “Fuck.”

Alex put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Fish.”

When Finn still couldn’t continue, Alex pushed, just a little.

“Logan made you think he would never love you,” he said carefully. “You so were worried about wanting Leo—”

“Logan never make me think he didn’t love me,” Finn said. “I always knew we loved each other. He just made me think he would never let himself admit he was in love with me.” He smiled, remembering. “Leo was the opposite. One night, he…he said it plain as day. I mean, Lo and I said it first, but Leo did us one better before we even got the chance. Told us straight up. I’m gonna love you.”

“And in Nice…Logan.”

“He just couldn’t,” Finn said softly, eyes down. Maybe everything wasn’t so simple. “He just couldn’t, I said—I…He just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let it all go for me. I thought I was going to die, it hurt so bad.”

He felt like he had slipped up at the end. Die, so bad. That felt far too harsh. Too much. But it was real.

“Finn…” Alex’s brow was wrinkled.

Finn shook his head. “It’s all good. All healed up.” He sniffed. “Tell me about you now.”

“No, c’mon. Get it out, bud. You’ll feel better.” Alex scooted their stools a little closer. “It’s just you and me.”

Finn rubbed at his eyes, maybe groaning a little even if he was embarrassed about it. The lump was still in his throat. “It’s all fine now.”

“Just tell me. If not for you, then for me.”

“For you?”

When Alex was silent for a moment, Finn peeked back out at him.

Alex wore a sad, conflicted expression. He spun his glass on the table once. “I’m your big brother. I’m suppose to protect you from stuff like this and instead I had no idea.”

“Al…”

Alex shrugged at him, eyes sad. “I need to know what happen. If you’re willing. I’d like to know what you went through, and—and I’ll tell you what I went through. When we couldn’t be there for each other.”

Salt air. Sweet espresso on Logan’s tongue in the sun soaked kisses he’d managed to receive. When Finn had cut his foot on the rocks, right across the arch. Logan had bandaged it for him, all soft hands. He still had the scar.

“I wanted him to tell me that he wanted me,” Finn said. “That he loved me. All the while, I didn’t even use the word love. You can’t expect things from people that you’re too scared to do yourself.”

Another rise from a far table, glasses clinking. It gave them both a second to think. To drink. To be by themselves, and together.

“Now tell me something,” Finn said.

Alex gave a nod.

“The wedding.”

Alex just tilted his head. “The wedding.” Finn took another drink and Alex nudged his foot beneath the bar. “Say what you’re thinking, man.”

“You gotta be a little hurt.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment. Finn hadn’t been able to help it when they’d gotten the news. He’d put himself in Alex’s shoes. He’d tried to imagine Logan and Leo settling into something so loving, so permanent, without him. It sent rocks into his stomach, even in the form of make-believe. He’d looked at Leo, who had had one of his performative smiles on his face. Finn knew that he and Logan were the only ones who could see the hesitant confusion in his face.

His parents had toasted to the marriage quite a few times across the meal. Alex had initiated a toast of his own. Finn had tried to read him, tried to see if there was hidden hurt in his eyes, too.

Now, Alex’s laugh was small, maybe a little annoyed. “Why do I have to be hurt?”

“Because—”

“I can choose not to be hurt.”

It was Finn’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh. “That’s not how hurting works. Believe me. Been there, tried that.”

“I can understand, then,” Alex said. “I can be happy for them. I can be happy for the two people I love, Finn.”

“Okay,” Finn said quickly. “All right, God. I’m just saying—”

“I know what you’re saying.”

Finn tensed all over, just like he always did when he thought Alex might be upset with him. A strange predicament, being a little brother who only wanted to please.

“It’s okay, Fish,” Alex said.

Finn glanced up at him. “I don’t get it.”

“Think of it like you and Logan. You two have years on your relationships with Leo. That’s Nat and Kasey, in a way. They’ve been living together, they’ve been a…partnership. Figuring out hard times, moving when Kasey had to move, growing together…they’re getting married.”

“Without you, though.”

“We just became what we are now. The three of us. It’s not a slight towards me, you can’t see it that way.”

“I do see it that way,” Finn said. “What, like they’re not sure about you?” Alex went to talk but Finn cut him off. “So Logan and I are us, so what? There’s nothing we’re more sure about than Leo. The second I get down on one knee in front of Logan, Leo’s gonna be standing right next to him.”

“So that’s you.” Alex let out a harsh breath. “Finn. C’mon. I’m happy.”

They sound of their own name made them both look away from each other. A commercial for the playoffs. O’Hara with the goal! It was Finn, slamming into Logan in celebration—footage from when they were still teammates. It ended with images of them opposite each other, photoshopped to pristine edges, both with a focused scowl on their faces. Logan was in his Rangers jersey, and there was a shining Stanley Cup was between them.

They were being painted as rivals now. Finn’s stomach turned.

“Jesus,” Alex said. “Never seen that before.”

“Me neither,” Finn said faintly. Logan had never once looked at him like that in his life. “How are we going to take something like this away from each other?” Finn said in a small voice. Maybe he was talking about Logan. Maybe he was talking about Alex.

Sitting here, looking at his brother, it felt impossible. He’d never once wanted to take anything from him, not really. Not toys, not girls. Never even had the thought of boys or anyone else. What Alex had, he just wanted something similar. Always.

“Never,” Alex said. “C’mere.” He put a hand on the back of Finn’s neck and pulled him in, Finn’s forehead against his shoulder. “C’mere, Fish.”

Finn’s laughed softly and he squeezed a hand around Alex’s back.

“I don’t care what happens on the ice,” Alex said. “No one’s taking anything from anyone. We’re just doing our job.”

“Honestly, it’s kind of hard to remember sometimes that this is our career.”

“Oh?” Alex pulled back. “Your sixty million slips your mind sometimes?”

“Fuck off,” Finn laughed as he took a sip. Then he leaned over and gave Alex’s shoulder a shove. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes. “No. But…I know it’s not how you and yours would do it. But we’re good, me and mine. Honestly.”

Finn nodded. “Okay.” He turned on his stool to look out at the room. “All right, I got it.”

“I really…” Alex cleared his throat. “I really can’t say how fucking happy I get when I see you with them. And also just spending this much time with Logan now…the way he talks about you, man.”

Finn felt his neck heat. “He’s a pile of mush. That sometimes bites.”

Alex let out a loud laugh. “And you know, for such a sweetheart, Leo looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

“Maybe he does.”

“Oh Jesus, get out.” Alex shoved him.

“You started it!”

Alex just rolled his eyes and waved Liz down to pay the bill.

~

Sirius slowed the car to a stop outside of Hogwarts Stadium, causing a frantic chorus of his name and a surge of red and black jerseys being thrust forward, only barely contained by the gate guards.

“What are you doing?” Remus said, looking up from his phone from the passenger seat. “You usually just pull on through and wave.”

Sirius pulled a sharpie from the cupholder and rolled down the window. He pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes. “Might be one of their last chances to get a Sirius Black signature.”

He could feel Remus’ smile even as he hooked an elbow over his open window for the first jersey, then a poster, another jersey.

“You might want to pick up a pen, too, Loops,” Sirius said as a few of the fans ran around to the passenger side.

Sirius watched his hand sign countless Bs. His last name. He watched the double loops, the jut of the L. The long tail of the K. Finally, his number, which he hoped would never change. He wanted to be a Lion for life.

He waved and made sure Remus had handed a final jersey back before putting the car back into drive.

“How’d it feel?” Remus asked.

Sirius just smiled. “Felt all right.”

He smiled. He did. Real enough for Remus to scrunch his nose at him with one of his own, squeeze his hand across the gear shift and look forward.

He also thought of Regulus.

~

Finn cherished these car rides now, with the three of him. He liked the space, the way the air changed. He liked the way Logan looked relaxed, settled in knowing that they were all together. He liked the way Leo sang along to the music coming softly through the speakers. He liked them together.

“I got something to say,” Finn said.

Leo looked over at him, letting out a short snort of laughter. “All right, then.”

“You usually don’t announce what you have to say,” Logan said from the back.

“I know.” Finn reached a hand back blindly. Logan’s eyes met his in the rear view mirror and then Finn felt his fingers slip into his. He squeezed briefly, then let go and settled his fingers over Leo’s thigh. “I’ve been thinking about the wedding. Kasey’s.”

“Oh?” Leo said.

“Yeah. And I know…I know you’re both going to tell me I’m being stupid, but I gotta say this anyway. Okay?”

Leo looked back at Logan, confused. “Yeah. Sure, Harz.”

Finn took a slow breath.

“If I’m the one who gets down on one knee first,” Finn said, eyes ahead. “The second I put a ring on Lo’s finger, I’m putting one on yours, too, Le.”

“Oh,” Leo said softly, surprised. “Finn, I…It’s okay, I mean—”

“No.” Finn wasn’t going to let this moment go until Leo understood, until he was sure of it. “I need you to know that.”

“Me too,” Logan said. He had shifted into the middle of the back and was leaning forward through as best he could between their seats.

Finn wished he had said something earlier, before they left the house, because now he could only catch Leo’s expression in glimpses. He was blinking fast. He rolled his eyes at himself, but his face broke a little, lip wobbling. Before he could put a palm over his eyes, Finn caught his wrist and dragged it towards him for a kiss before pressing it over his heart.

“There is not a single version of our lives that doesn’t include you,” Finn said. “Preferably there are not even days.”

“No moments,” Logan said. “No seconds.”

Logan’s eyes met Finn’s again. We should tell him more.

“We were just saying the other day,” Finn began. “That—that we know how much history Lo and I have, but we love you so much. And when Alex—with the wedding, I just wanted to make sure that—”

“Oh, Harz.” Leo cut him off, his hand finding the back of Finn’s neck, tangling in his hair. “I know how much you love me.”

“I certainly hope so,” Finn said. “But…I never want you to worry.”

“I wouldn’t call it worry.” Leo thought for a moment. “I’m aware of your history and how much of it there is.” He turned to glance back at Logan. “I’m aware of all the memories you have, all the jokes, that I wasn’t there for. I’d be pretty stone cold if I hadn’t ever thought about it, but it’s not like we don’t have those, too. Memories. History.”

“Of course,” Logan said, and Leo’s hand slipped from Finn’s neck to squeeze Logan’s.

“I know I’m loved. I know it. Because if you didn’t really love me…how could you and Lo ever have looked at anyone else besides each other?”

Finn looked over at him, brows drawn together.

“I know I’m loved, Finn,” Leo said again. “You don’t have to work to show me. You show me ever day—even when you love Lo you show me.” Leo smiled. “You get a look in your eye when you hear Logan’s name,” Leo said.

“A look?” Finn asked, eyes on the road.

Leo nodded. “It’s soft. It’s light. It’s fierce, it’s longing…”

Logan’s green eyes in the mirror. Finn couldn’t see his whole face, but he could tell Logan was smiling.

“You get it when he walks in the room and when you give him his coffee in the morning,” Leo said. “When you wash the soap out of his hair or even bring him his favorite croissants. When you open him up on your fingers and when you sink inside of him and make him feel how much you want him.”

There was the muffled sound of Logan’s forehead hitting the back of Finn’s seat and it startled a laugh out of all three of them.

“Riling us up before the game, I see,” Finn said.

Leo just smiled. “I bet you looked at him like that at school, too. Across a desk, or a bar. From one dorm bed to another. From the driver’s seat to the passenger’s.”

Finn sucked in a short breath. “Leo—”

“I love that look more than almost anything…But there is one thing I might love more, or equally.”

“What’s that?”

“The look you get when you hear my name. Or when you offer to help me make dinner. When you mix me a cocktail. When you bring me a stack of books that you think I'll like in the bookstore and when you kiss my forehead. When you take me to a new restaurant, making a big deal about picking up the bill like it’s our first date or something.” Leo laughed, a purely happy sound. “When you lay me down and fuck me so…” Leo leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Finn’s shoulder, “damn good.”

Finn’s laugh was soft but delighted. “Le…”

“You think I don’t know how much you two love me? So, I thought you two might get married first for about point five seconds.” Leo shook his head. “Even Kasey knows us well enough to know that it would never happen like that. Not for us.”

“I didn’t come to you with this so you could reassure me, you know,” Finn said.

Leo just kissed his shoulder again. “I know.”

“Also,” Logan said from the back seat. “Who said you’re proposing first?”

Leo’s laugh was bright. “Ditto.”

~

Someone turned the broadcast on in the locker room, and Sirius taped his sticks with one eye on the red and black jerseys filing into the stadium. He tried to filter in some of the peace from New York City, walking the streets with Remus. He looked over at him, talking to Cole and Thomas.

And Lupin is certainly impressing, the television said, drawing Sirius’ eyes back up. He ripped the tape roll off with his teeth just as one of Remus’ goals flashed up on the screen.

“Hey,” Evgeni called, slapping the bottom of the mounted TV. “Lupin on TV, big movie star.”

Sirius listened to Remus’ answering laugh and watched Remus’ headshot appear between the commentator desk, all soft eyes and light, summer hair.

Lupin.

Sirius Lupin.

Sirius thought of Regulus.

The families came in for the lines to be called. Remus’ parents. Julian. Leo’s parents, Logan’s too, and his sisters. Finn’s mom—his dad with Alex in the visitor’s room. Thomas’ family, Cole’s mom.

And his baby brother. Not so little anymore. Tall, lanky, loosing some of the piled on muscle of hockey and settling into just himself. Dark hair, light eyes, and BLACK between his shoulder blades. 12 on his sleeves.

Sirius felt far too tall in his skates as he stood to take his usual place by the door. The room was a mess of cheers and last minute superstitions. Energy shots, smelling salts, touching Moody’s leg. Sirius just kept his eyes on Regulus, who offered a rare, genuine smile.

“Win one more and you’re only one win away,” he said in French.

God, Sirius thought. He had hated having to speak English when he was little.

“Ouais,” Sirius said. “Big one.” He thought for a second. “I’m feeling okay though.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

Sirius nodded, switching his stick from one hand to the other, then back again. “You’ll come see me after the game?”

He wasn’t sure why he said that, and Regulus looked a little confused, too. Of course he would. He always did.

“Ouais…” He patted Sirius’ shoulder, gave him a light fist to his chest. “Good luck, Sirius-feeling-okay.”

Sirius felt a flash of guilt, suddenly, that he’d told Remus’ family before his own. And that was what Regulus was. His family. The purest part of it. No, the most wonderful. His brother. It didn’t matter if they had spent time apart. Mon étoile.

“What?” Regulus’ brow furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sirius opened his mouth. “I…”

“Cap!” Evgeni knocked their helmets together, forcing Regulus to step back as he walked down the tunnel. “We go!”

“Uh—yeah, Kuns.” Sirius held his fist out mostly on instinct as Olli passed, then Timmy, then Cole and Pascal. Pascal paused, giving him a funny look, then one to Regulus, before moving on.

“Really,” Regulus said, walking backwards slowly to where the other families were heading to their seats. “Good luck.”

~

Finn knew to expect little digs and annoyances. Based on this series, Gryffindor and New York’s rivalry would most likely skyrocket. Fans would fight and yell. Tickets to these games would double in price even in the regular season.

Maybe that was what Jack Archer was going for. He was good, but maybe he thought, if he wanted to stick with the big boys, he had to be something to the entertainment of it all, too. Something for the commercials that made them all sound like gladiators. Finn didn’t understand it and, by the looks of everything, the Rangers didn’t, either.

“He’s always dug himself into holes,” Leo said from beside him, buckling up his padding. He paused, long fingers fiddling with the ends of the ties. “I just…I really hope he goes soon. I’m sick of it.”

Finn had scoffed, then pressed a kiss to Leo’s temple. “You and me both, baby.”

He tapped helmets with Sirius on his way out to the rink, and took in a deep breath of cold, ice air as he skated fast through the red and yellow lasers and lights being projected down on them. He looked for Logan, across the center line. It wasn’t as strange now, he guessed, to be looking for 71 instead of 10, but he missed the old number all the same. Ten felt like Logan. Finn had traced that number onto his bare, warm back in morning light. It was a nickname, one that Logan returned with a rare lopsided smile. In love, Finn now knew that smile meant. Hey, seventeen.

“Hey, Tremblay,” he shouted, and he saw Logan smile to himself before looking over. “You’re a ten outta ten, bud.”

Logan just shook his head. “Ouais, merci.”

Percy skated up close to center ice and stopped hard, spraying Finn with snow. “Wow, you’re so clingy.”

Finn tried to get him with the blade of his stick, but Percy dodged out of reach, laughing. It died when he bumped right into Jack, who was waiting for his turn at the goal.

“Sorry, man,” Jack said and Percy waved him off.

“No worries,” he said plainly—and Percy was anything but brief with his words.

Finn gave one more nod to Logan. Love you, he mouthed, and Logan said it back in French.

As Finn turned back to his side of the ice, Cole skated in at his side.

“There’s this whole thing online that Archer and Tremz hate each other,” he said, and Finn glanced over at him, a little surprised. Cole was quickly going from shy to never not telling them about whatever gossip he had heard. Finn kind of liked it, watching his real personality come out. It was like it had been with Sirius. Logan, too, when they had first met. He liked making people feel comfortable.

“Is it true?” Cole asked.

“Doesn’t really matter,” Finn said.

“They think Archer’s like, your ex or something and Tremz doesn’t like him for it.”

“My ex?”

“Yeah.” Cole shrugged, then his eyes widened. “Is he Logan’s ex?”

“Dude,” Finn said, smiling but shaking his head. “He’s nobody.”

Cole looked unconvinced. “He’s been fucking after you, man.”

“Well, I pissed him off.”

“He’s a fucking call up.”

“Never said he wasn’t stupid.”

Cole switched to gliding backwards at his side. He tapped Finn’s leg with his stick. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s up?”

“I’m really not,” Finn said. “But I love ya, rookie. You ask Layla out yet?”

Finn laughed when Cole groaned and skated away, slapping a puck hard over Kasey’s shoulder in net.

Finn pushed towards their bench, eye on the flash of lights calling people back to their seats for game start. Leo was already on his stool with his mask pushed up, blond hair sweaty. He had a water bottle in one hand and was fiddling with Logan’s necklace with the other.

“Kill it out there, Harz,” he said with a grin. “My cute little winger.”

Finn just grinned back and pulled himself over the boards.

“Hey Knut?”

Leo tilted his head at him.

“You’re number one in my heart.”

“Oh my God.” But it made Leo laugh.

~

Sirius thought they were going to win again. They were up four in the middle of the second period and flying high on the home crowd surrounding them. He felt the adrenaline of it all prodding at him, spiking his breathing. He felt five steps ahead, luxuriating in what he’d always been good at. Panarin thought he was going to pass, Sirius was already at Trocheck’s side. Kreider at the net, Sirius put Thomas there, too. And if Alex O’Hara thought he didn’t share any similarities with his brother, then why did Sirius know every move he made?

The satisfaction burned bright in him. It always had. He squeezed a water bottle over his neck and tried to catch his breath.

“That was gatorade, but okay.”

Sirius looked at the water bottle, then at Remus, who was laughing at him. He took his own bottle and squeezed it over Sirius’ back.

“There you go, baby.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said, and took a drink of the sweet-salty red. “Take a double the next one? Power play.”

Remus nodded. His cheeks were flushed bright. He’d put a pretty one right between Saint’s pad and blocker. “Sounds good.”

The real problem for New York, Sirius thought, were the Rangers’ penalty minutes. It was unusual. Sirius knew it, and so did anyone who knew anything about hockey. But the blueshirts had been in and out of the box all game.

“We play keep away,” Sirius said as he and Remus jumped the boards with James. “Wait for them to get tired and let them put their second unit out, let the PP clock wind down and then we score right as Archer gets out of the box, all right?”

James snorted. “Playing with your food much?”

Remus laughed too. “I’d say so.”

Sirius just shook his head and leaned down for the face-off against Alex.

“Wow, Sirius Black, I’m such a huge fan,” Alex said.

“You O’Hara’s are all alike,” James said from Sirius’ shoulder. “Got big fucking mouths on ya.”

“That’s always been a compliment in my book.”

“Do you boys wanna talk all day or…” The ref raised an eyebrow, then only spared another second before dropping the puck.

Sirius hooked it behind him and back to Remus. There was a shock of action. Sirius felt someone slam into him from behind, but he spun and kept his footing. Remus had the puck, passed it back to Sirius, who drew it back around Kasey’s net.

When he tried for another pass to Remus, Alex intercepted it. In one motion he sent it flying low towards Kasey—but James was too quick for him. Even as the crowd rose in a protesting shout, James was there, putting his body in the way. He drew in on himself protectively, but it was too quick. The puck bounced right off the outer shell of his skate, right over his ankle.

James grimaced, and Sirius only had a second to see him stumble. He didn’t fall, though, merely began to make his way towards the bench as fast as he could. He hardly put any weight on his foot at all. Finn was already straddling the boards, ready, and the second James reached him, he was throwing himself over.

The original plan was off kilter now, but the clock was still running down. Remus had the puck now and, only slightly in a panic, he sent it towards Finn, who held it on his stick like a magnet.

Logan appeared in Sirius’ peripheral vision and Sirius took two sharp strides and covered him close as he pushed up the ice. He felt Logan try and elbow him, get to Finn, but Finn was already gathering speed.

And Sirius had had a plan. That was what he was best at. One foot in front of the other, seeing all the angles. Ice vision. Game intellect.

He should have seen it coming.

But he was so busy watching Finn, busy getting himself into position, that he hardly even noticed the power play clock run out. He hardly even noticed the penalty box opening and Archer darting out. He should have seen it.

Later, thinking back on it, he would realize that Remus had. He’d shouted, and not for the puck. His voice had been sharp and frantic, but everything was too fast.

It was never like they showed it in the movies.

Not the ones no one saw coming. Not the bad ones.

The bad hits happened between one blink and the next, the dark space in between. One moment, Finn was racing away from them, eyes on Saint, and the next all that filled the stadium was the weight of a body hitting the boards.

~

Cold ocean and warm skin. This good of a kiss shouldn’t hurt so bad.

The jingle of a dog’s collar, back door slamming. Did you go to the store already? No. Got ice? Nope.

I could have picked you up from the airport, you know. Blue eyes, dimpled smile.

We’re going s-w-i-m-m-m-m-m-i-n-g!

I’m fine, it just surprised me.

Confusion. Memory.

Green grass. Maroon. Warm between his shoulders, sweet soda, too sweet. Are you drunk?

You cook, I clean, Knut. House rules. You don’t have to thank me.

Dark ink.

The sheets so warm from his body that he shivered. Goodgoodgood.

Foggy. Tired.

From New York City, the New York Rangers select Alexander O’Hara—colorful confetti.

It’s cold.

Were you waiting for me? Yeah, you hungry?

I know. When you got your concussion, I saw. I saw you two—

Are you going to kiss me? Can I? Yes.

It’s cold.

Hannah, please. Say anything—say anything you want about me. To anyone. Say anything you want.

Agitation. Sad.

But not him. Please—leave him out of it. Just leave him out of it.

I’m gonna fall in love with you.

Al, what if I…

Yeah?

Never mind.

Heart soaring from laughter, blond hair catching the light on the couch, I can’t look away, I need to. I don’t ever want to look away. Dimpled smile, gray streak. Oh God, I’m allowed to love you.

It’s cold. I know, come here, bud. Come here. Finn—

~

“Finn?”

A familiar hush closed over him, and the world went quiet.

He was back in the car.

Logan’s green eyes in the mirror. Leo’s palm on his neck.

He was in bed—or at least he thought it was a bed. A floating feeling, soft, unstable too until something pressed into his side. Logan. A head on his shoulder. Twin bed, his feet nearly reaching the end. He could smell their old room. Deodorant, the humidity from the open bathroom door. Someone just showered. Logan, after a roadtrip. Logan, against his side, head on his shoulder. Since when does he let himself do that? Logan—have to wake up, Harzy. The medicine will help.

Now that Logan mentioned it, his head throbbed. Something else, too. Shoulder? The room was dark, the bed was cold, but there was a bright light coming from somewhere, getting bigger. Have to wake up, Harz. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—

“Finn.”

Finn, somehow, found his voice. “Al?”

“Right here, bud.” At Alex’s voice, Finn covered his eyes. “Hey, hey, tell us what’s wrong.”

“It was an accident,” someone else was saying. “No. No, it was, it was, I’m so sorry, I had my head down, it was—”

It was so bright. There was a strange sound around him that he only barely registered as a large crowd trying to be quiet.

Someone was blowing a whistle, hard, and it was too loud tooloudtooloud.

“Oh my God,” Finn heard himself say. He heard panic in his own voice.

“Finn.” Layla’s voice. “What hurts, man? Can you tell me how this feels?” Finn felt fingers press to either side of his neck. He realized he was on his side. He had thought he was on his back.

“Fine,” Finn said. “Actually I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Okay, okay,” Layla said gently.

“Did I say something?” Finn asked. “Did I…”

“Hey, hey, don’t roll on your stomach.” A second voice. Lars, Finn thought. “You feel sick? Your back, nice and easy, let us help.”

“Where?” Finn felt a sharp flash of embarrassment, but Layla didn’t miss a beat. Finn felt pressure at his shoulder. He thought cried out. He didn’t want to open his eyes. His head spun. He was so dizzy.

“Right here.” Cold against his back. Something soft around his neck, for him to rest on. Support, he realized. A brace.

“What…” he whispered.

“Just precaution,” Layla said. “We’re gonna get you off the ice now, all right?”

“Logan—” Finn said, and then had a flash of panic. The whistle. No, he can’t just call out for Logan. People will know. People will know and Logan won’t—

“Right here, Rouge.” He sounded far away. “We’re right here, baby.”

Right. Right.

“Finn?” Leo’s voice, pitched high with panic. He was far away, too.

What happened?

“I’m fine,” Finn heard himself say. “I’m fine, Le. Don’t worry, Le. I’m fine.”

“All right, everyone back.” Layla again. “O’Hara—or, Alex, I get it, but there’s the stretcher. Lars, help me get him on the board.”

“I’m so sorry,” a voice was saying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop talking.” Leo sounded angry. Livid. Was he talking?

“I’m sorry,” Finn said, but he thought maybe he had whispered it.

Finn’s breath left him, stomach swooping as he was picked up using something hard and flat beneath him. Then it was like being on a train that was moving too slow to really feel anything. Wheels moving, but he wasn’t sure what direction he was going, head or feet first. There was polite clapping, still hushed in the worst way.

“Wait,” Finn said, and managed to open his eyes. It hurt, the lights felt sharp. “What happened?”

“Let’s just get you off the ice, Harz,” Layla said. He could see her silhouette against the blinding stadium lights, the reflections off the ice. A cool shadow blocked them for a moment, and maybe Finn couldn’t see perfectly, but he would know that shape anywhere.

“I love you, Fish,” Alex said.

Finn barely had to lift three of his fingers before Alex was squeezing them in his own.

~

In the away locker room, dressed in red and blue, it was teammate against teammate. A helmet, thrown. Visor, cracked against the wall. Green eyes dark as the sea, a fist tight around a neck of a jersey, other hands trying to pry them apart.

In the home locker room, dressed in black and gold, it was quiet. So quiet. The goaltender was throwing his equipment off of his body and running. And then he was standing in the hallway, shouting like none of his teammates had heard him before. The others kept still, as if that could help somehow. Cold towels around necks.

~

When Finn opened his eyes again, it was to a dark room. No sounds. So silent he felt underground.

He had been here before.

Quiet Room. Concussion.

“Hello?” Finn said aloud. His head hurt, sure, but the pain positively radiated from somewhere near his shoulder. Realizing it made him gasp. He drew his hand up, but he was afraid to touch.

The door clicked open, a blinding strip of light that made him close his eyes, and then it was gone.

“Finn?” Layla said. “I just went to get you some water. You with me, man?”

“I need to see…” Finn swallowed, realizing how dry his throat was.

“No visitors right now, Harz, all right? Soon.”

“Soon?”

Layla pushed gently at his good shoulder, trying to get him to sit back. “You should just rest, Finn. Your shoulder hurt?”

“Like hell.”

“Yeah.” He could just make out Layla’s sympathetic look. “Rest.”

“Did you tell Logan soon?”

She was putting a straw in a cup. “Yeah, we did, don’t worry—”

“No.” She paused. “No?”

“No, you don’t understand—If Logan’s not let in he’s gonna break down the fucking—”

There was a muffled thump as the door was forced open and a flushed, panting Logan, still in full gear and skates, pushed through Lars and the doorway. 

“Rouge,” he whispered. “Rouge.” He yanked himself around at the sight of Finn covering his eyes and pushed the door shut again—somehow quiet as a mouse. “Finn—”

“I’m fine,” Finn said, pushing up on an elbow—and regretting it. He bit down the gasp of pain. “Hey, Lo, look, I’m okay—”

“Lay down, Finn,” Layla said forcefully.

Logan looked at Layla. “Tell me.”

Finn closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Logan’s face react to what he already knew.

“He has a minor concussion. Minor, I said, but that doesn’t mean you can treat it as nothing. This isn’t your first time around.”

Logan shook his head. “He was—he was so out. For…for maybe twenty seconds.”

Layla nodded. “It was thirteen. But I know. I know he was. Your body gets shocked. Your systems protects themselves. He fractured one of his collarbones, it could have been the pain, too—”

“I’m going to kill Jack,” Logan said. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

So that’s what had done it.

Finn sighed, settling back down and reaching a hand out instead. “He’s your teammate, Lo—”

“You're my teammate.”

It brought a different type of silence to the room. Finn ached in all the places he hadn’t before. Logan set his jaw and walked forward, clutching Finn’s hand between both of his own.

“You’re my teammate,” he said again, breathing hard. He was dripping with sweat, like he had just left the ice. “It doesn’t matter where I am. It’s you.”

“God,” Layla said quietly. “You two make me want to cry.”

Finn reached up with his good arm and put a hand against Logan’s cheek. “Where’s Leo?”

“Archer’s claiming it was an accident. Leo’s talking to him.” Logan hesitated. “Shouting. Shouting at him.”

“Who won? Who won the game?”

Logan frowned. “We did.”

Finn smiled, and then remembered that we didn’t mean the two of them anymore. “Oh.”

Logan leaned down and kissed Finn gently. “Rest.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Tremblay…” Layla said warningly. “You gotta go.”

“Rest,” Logan said once more. Another kiss. “We’ll take you home soon.”

Finn watched him go, glaring a little at Lars as he went a little sideways to fit through the doorway in his gear.

“He’s right,” Layla said. “Take it easy, and take these. The painkillers will start working soon and I needy to try and relax. We’ll run some tests and see what our next steps are.”

Finn allowed her to hand him the pills, to help him drink water.

“Wake me up when they come get me,” Finn said, because he was tired. “Please.”

“I will,” Layla said gently. She put a hand on his chest, rubbing softly. His pads had been taken off, which felt strange. He didn’t remember doing that. At least the neck brace was gone, even if it was replaced by a sling. “It’s all right.”

“It’s my third,” Finn said, though the words probably sounded jumbled. He was already fading.

“I know.” Layla’s voice sounded distant. “I know. But we’re going to take care of you. Everyone’s going to take care of you.”

Finn fell asleep with those words somewhere close by.

~

“Sorry it didn’t go your way.”

Sirius looked up from where he had his nose pressed against Remus’ shoulder. Regulus was standing in the doorway with worried eyes.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He felt Remus rub his back once before turning to look at Regulus, too. “Honestly, I…I just hope Harzy’s okay.”

“I’m going to go see if I can do anything,” Remus said. “I don’t know, run to the store for them or something.”

Sirius nodded. That was probably true, but he also knew that Remus was finding an excuse to leave the two of them alone.

“Text me when you’re headed home, all right? I’ll find you.” Remus leaned up for a kiss and Sirius couldn’t help the way he cradled the back of Remus’ neck, the soft curls there.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Finn with the puck on his tape, and Jack Archer coming out of no where. The slam of the boards. Logan getting Jack by the jersey, just for a moment, before he was being held away from Finn by Layla’s outstretched hand. Leo, motionless in the goal and then skating hard over to them. Alex dropping next to his brother, cupping his palms beneath his head to keep it off the ice.

“You know,” Regulus began slowly after Remus disappeared around the corner. “There was a time when we would have just cared about winning the game.”

“Momentum builds from loss of any kind,” Sirius said, repeating their father’s words.

Regulus looked down and recited the rest of the phrase. “Better a teammate than you.” He rubbed at his eyes. “God. Maman. Papa. What the hell.” He came to lean against the counter beside Sirius. “That’s all I think sometimes, you know? Just…what the hell.”

Sirius looked down. “Yeah. I know.”

“How is James?”

“He’s okay,” Sirius said. “It just stung. You know how it gets all numb and needly for a second.”

Regulus nodded. “Mhm. Well, that’s good.”

Sirius nodded. He felt the superstitious itch he got before games, as if somehow re-doing all of of his routines would somehow help Finn just be a few seconds of needly shock, too. He knew it wouldn’t.

“I got into that summer program,” Regulus said suddenly.

Sirius looked up at him. “The one in Quebec? The design one?”

Regulus smiled a half smile. “Ouais.”

Sirius hadn’t know how to feel when Regulus first told him he was applying for something so close to home. Or, rather, what had once been home.

“But…” Sirius began.

“I’m not scared of them.” Regulus’ voice came out fierce. Almost harsh. “I can’t go through my life being scared of them. I’ve had enough of that.”

“But if they find out you’re there—”

“What?” Regulus widened his eyes, shaking his head. “They can find me any day. On campus. With you. They can find you any day, but they don’t.”

Sirius swallowed. “Yeah. I…yeah.”

“They only feel big because we used to be small.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. “We’re not anymore.”

Sirius let a wave of pride wash over him. Even he sometimes couldn’t make that sentence work in his head. Thinking about his parents, even with all the ways he’d overcome them, still made him feel small sometimes. Thinking about all the moments he could have put an end to it, and didn’t, simply because he thought he might, one day, please them and it would end on its own. He looked at his brother. If they weren’t proud of him right now, Sirius didn’t think they knew how to feel such an emotion at all. Sirius was brimming with it.

“You would get so tired in drills sometimes,” Sirius said, not really knowing why. “I remember pushing you along, trying to get you to keep up your speed so you’d make it to the boards before the whistle. When you were little, I mean.”

“I remember.”

“You thought I was just being hard on you.”

Regulus closed his eyes. “At the time, yeah. I did.”

“It was easier to let you think that.”

“It shouldn’t have been,” Regulus said. “That whole time, we could have been in it together.”

Sirius closed his eyes, too. “Ouais. I know.” And then, because he couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I’m taking Remus’ last name.”

When he opened his eyes again, Regulus was already looking at him. He looked, and looked, and looked. Steel. Thunder clouds. A still, peaceful lake in the early morning. Sirius didn’t look away. He didn’t want to miss it if there was something he needed to know in those eyes.

But he couldn’t have predicted what Regulus said next. He turned to face him and uncrossed his arms.

“You wanna know how many people I’ve met who know who you are?” Regulus asked.

Sirius blinked. “What?”

“No, really. Guess.”

Sirius glanced around the lounge, confused. “I…”

“Guess, Sirius.”

Sirius thought of the train car with Remus in New York. Blissful anonymity.

“That’s what I’m telling you,” he said. “I don’t want to just be the name you can’t get rid of. I don’t want any of it to be a name you can’t get rid of—”

Regulus let out a disbelieving laugh. “What, so you’re dropping it? Taking Remus’?”

Some words, surely, tried to come out.

“Are you gonna drop me too? I’m too much of a reminder for you?”

“No. Non. Merde, Regulus, Of course not, no—”

“Then keep it,” Regulus shouted, then pressed his lips together like he wished he could take it back. He crossed his arms again and turned away.

There it was, what Sirius had been looking for. Only it hadn’t been quiet. Their house in Quebec had been so, so quiet. Regulus was finally saying these things out loud.

“I…” The least Sirius could do was try to meet him there. “I don’t know what to do, Reg. It all reminds me of…”

“People don’t fix us,” Regulus said. “They love us and they care for us. But they don’t replace things that have happened to us. You’re a Black. So am I. Do what you want.”

Slowly, Sirius reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. When he did, Regulus didn’t flinch. Sirius swore he even pressed back into his palm a little.

“One,” Regulus said without turning around.

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off of his own hand. He cupped the back of Regulus’ softly. No flinch. “What?”

“I’ve met one person who recognized me. One person who knows who you are. One person who gives a shit.”

Finally, Regulus turned around, looking up at him. Sirius’ hand fell to his side again. Regulus’ gray eyes, mirrors to Sirius’ own, were pleading. “Hockey isn’t that big, Sirius. I want you to go to a restaurant, a random restaurant, in a city other than this one, and I’d bet my entire bank account that not a single person gives a shit about your name. Like, sorry, if that hurts your ego, but—”

To Sirius’ own surprise, he laughed. “My ego?”

Regulus did the same, groaning a little as he did and rubbing at his forehead. “I can’t even say that because you don’t even fucking have one.”

“Wow,” Sirius said.

“Probably the only person in your field who can claim that as true.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me—”

“I don’t blame you,” Regulus cut in, and it went straight to somewhere near Sirius’ heart. “For any of it.”

“I do,” Sirius said. It felt as honest as he could get just then.

“Don’t,” Regulus said. “And…I mean it, do whatever you want with your name. I’m sorry I…” He made a you know gesture with his hand. “And I didn’t mind you pushing me. Not when it was you.” Regulus looked down, fiddling with his fingers in the way he used to. In the way he had since he was five. In the way their father used to slap his wrists for. The way Sirius used to still by cupping gentle hands over his. “It actually…When it was you, it actually used to make me feel kind of special.”

Special.

“Special,” Sirius repeated faintly.

Regulus didn’t say more, just sent a fleeting smile up at him. He let out a long breath, cracked a few of his knuckles, and shrugged. “Sorry about the game.”

“I…I don’t care about the game.”

Regulus actually looked pleased for a moment. Special. Then, it turned skeptical.

Sirius darted his eyes away, a smile of his own coming out. “I…Well, I…”

“You do care.” Regulus laughed. “But that was nice.”

Sirius laughed. “I just meant…”

“I know what you meant,” Regulus said. He touched his hand to the back of his own neck briefly, then nodded towards the door. “See you at home.”

Sirius could only nod and let the lump in his throat linger.

“Hi,” Remus said when Sirius found him, freshly showered and dressed in his suit again. He put a hand to Sirius’ cheek and kissed him. “You okay?”

“I’m gonna keep my name,” Sirius said. He looked between Remus’ eyes, watching his expression carefully.

In doing that, he got to see the smile bloom slow over Remus’ face. He pressed both hands to Sirius’ cheeks and kissed him again.

“I love you,” Remus whispered. “Sirius Black.”

#vaincre lumosinlove #o'knutzy #o'darwin #finn o'hara #sirius black #remus lupin #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #hockey au #finnlo #finnlo harvard era #lelo #sunfish #lionfish #wolfstar #wolfstar au #sweater weather lumosinlove

[under-theweirwood]

@oknutzyweek2023 day five ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

my brain is a machine that produces harvard era finnlo so this is what i have to offer. pls don't ask me what happened to day four hehehe. instead enjoy college boys and sillysoft bus ride feelings. featuring a new hoodie and a playlist from alex.

Finn was cold. He was cold and he was annoyed and his feet hurt and it was all his fault. And it was a Sunday night and they were going to get back to campus so late. He could feel himself pouting but he couldn't bring himself to snap out of it. 

“Why is it already cold now?” Finn complained, hunching his shoulders in. It wasn’t like it was winter, but he had left his sweatshirt almost certainly in the away team locker room. His perfect, reliable, heavy enough for a chilly day but easy to bring to practice sweatshirt. 

Logan went along with the bitching, though. Reliable Logan.  Logan whose quiet, private jokes had been distracting him from everything all evening. Logan who looked so pretty after he scored a goal it made Finn catch his breath suddenly. “Man, I know.” 

Logan looked at Finn sideways. They were standing in line at a gas station in upstate New York, headed home from an away game. The bus was getting gas, so the team was released onto the store, stocking up on snacks like they wouldn’t reach civilization for weeks. “Did you leave your sweatshirt?” 

“Yeah,” Finn sighed.  One of them always forgot something, either on the way, which was annoying, or on the way back, which was disappointing. 

“No wonder you’re cold,” Logan said. “You’re always cold. Merde, no wonder you’ve been like an ice cube.” 

Finn blushed and tried to cover it up by tweaking Logan’s beanie. His stupid, silly beanie that pushed down his dark wavy bangs around his eyes. “No one said you had to take a nap on me if I was so cold,” he said. And it was true; no one had told Logan that he should lean his head on Finn’s shoulder and knock out with his headphones on. It was just something he did, instinctual, like the way he’d sometimes reach out and rub Logan’s ankles while they watched TV, or the way he’d fallen asleep instantly in Logan’s bed the other week during a movie and slept there through the night. 

Then it was Logan’s turn to blush. It made a little rushing feeling go through Finn when Logan blushed back, or when their eyes caught in a look they wouldn’t name. The feeling of possibility--  and then a whole flickering array of other things, like hope and excitement and panic and fear fear fear-- and then, putting it away. 

“Stay here. Get your snacks. I’ll be back,” Logan called as he turned to walk, toward the bathroom or something, Finn figured. He shrugged. He knew what Logan wanted. 

Finn caught up with Will and Percy in line, scooped up twizzlers and cheez-its and some peanut m&ms for the journey ahead. Percy was acting out something from a movie, it seemed like, gesticulating wildly with the hand that wasn’t clutching a bag of sweet chili doritos. Finn rubbed his hands up and down his arms and let himself be distracted. 

Moments later, they were headed back out, armed with enough sugar to raise the dead. 

“Got you this.” Logan jogged to catch up with Finn. He didn’t look right at Finn but he was smirking as he shoved something into Finn’s arms. 

Finn shook it out. It was a thick gray hoodie, with some text in garishly sparkly neon green lettering reading out, “New York is for Lovers”. 

Finn had to laugh. It was so kitschy, so cheesy, but also...something in his silly, unreliable heart tweaked out a little at the word “lover” on anything that Logan was pushing into his hands. He didn’t want to ruin it by overthinking.

Not thinking about it at all, he pulled it over his head, sighing in relief. It was somehow incredibly soft, smelling like cleaning chemicals and faintly of movie theater popcorn butter. And it was from Logan who was so sweet and so unpredictable. Finn could not have seen this coming. 

“So you’re not an ice cube for the rest of the drive,” Logan said, yanking the hood down over Finn’s eyes as soon as it was over his head. 

“Uhhuh, I knew you had an agenda,” Finn laughed. His heart was beating quickly, though, his whole body warm in a way that had set on too fast to just be from the hoodie Logan had handed him. No, this was a fizzy, pulsing warmth not unrelated to how it felt lining a shot up into open goalspace. 

Logan looked right at him, just for a second, and it was just the two of them. Locked eyes together in the parking lot of a Kwik Trip in nowhere, NY, on a Sunday night on the way back to campus. The night, dark and chilly and quiet besides for the whooshing of cars passing just up on the highway and the murmur of conversation from inside, from the bus. 

And then just as quick as the moment arrived, it was over. With a sharp, and frankly unnecessarily screech of whistle, Coach was herding everyone back onto the bus, announcing their ETA back in Cambridge and starting to issue reminders about morning practice the next day. 

Finn followed Logan to their normal spot, halfway up on the right side, and slid into the aisle seat. He pulled his arms in to hug himself, cocooned in the sweatshirt. Standing outside with Logan had been enough of an adrenaline rush to cause a little crash, and Finn felt impossibly tired all of the sudden, his feet aching once again as he pulled out his phone and looked at the practice schedule for the week. 

Next to him, Logan’s headphones were back on, his eyes closed as he tilted his head back. Finn wiggled his shoulders over minutely, enough for Logan to do what he was undeniably waiting for the opportunity for. 

The bus accelerated onto the highway, everyone seeming to quiet down and nestle in for the last leg of the trip. Logan didn’t disappoint; he dropped his head back against Finn’s chest and wiggled over so their thighs almost overlapped. Logan was toasty, of course, a little scowling space heater conveniently positioned on Finn’s right. 

The lights were down, so Finn didn’t worry about the blush staining his cheeks or the goofy smile he quickly tucked away. He pulled out his headphones and scrolled back through texts until he found the playlist Alex had sent him a few days before. They didn’t have the exact same taste in music but it always felt good to think about his brother down in Tampa, jamming out or running to the same songs as him up in Cambridge.

Finn pressed shuffle and closed his eyes. His feet were sore but he felt perfectly content, going 60 miles per hour toward home with Logan next to him and his team all around them.

#o'knutzy week 2023 #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #finnlo #harvard era finnlo #sweather weather lumos in love #liv fic

[arrowofcarnations]

Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 1: First Frost

Happy fest, y’all! Here’s some Harvard-era FinnLo pining to ring in day one. Huge thank-yous to @lumosinlove for the Sweater Weather characters and universe and to @noots-fic-fests for organizing the fest!

Title: Love at First Fright Pairing: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay Rating: G

“Trick or treat!”

Finn smiled at the ghost-witch-robot trio looking up at him and dropped three handfuls of candy into the plastic pumpkin pails they held up expectantly.

“Hey, nice costumes! Happy Halloween!”

The kids barely stood still long enough to say it back before they were taking off in the opposite direction of the frat house, eager to get back to their parents and hit up more treat stops around campus before dark. It was a good day for it; classic autumn in New England, from the crispness in the air to the red, brown and yellow leaves drifting down off the trees to cover the manicured grass in a vibrant seasonal blanket. Even the deep red of Harvard’s brick buildings seemed more beautiful in October, like they were meant to exist in a state of perpetual fall.

Throngs of local kids—and some of their parents—were all decked out in their Halloween best, while Finn and the rest of the OKN guys wore school-branded clothes while taking turns manning the candy-laden folding table outside the house between classes. (Finn wasn’t sure any of them owned a costume they could wear outside in broad daylight.) 

He laughed as Percy walked over, refill bag in hand, wearing the exact same gray sweatshirt with a crimson HARVARD across the chest as he was, the same black joggers—almost the same sneakers. “Fashion.”

Percy grinned back at him. “You know it, baby.” He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into any bowls that weren’t full and spilling some across the table as he went.

“Yo, you’re getting jolly ranchers all over the ground.”

“You’re a fuckin’ jolly rancher.”

“You’re a fuckin’ kit-kat.”

“You’re a—”

“Shut up, there’s kids,” Will warned, then passed some treats to a tiny ballerina with a kind smile and a compliment for her costume.

“Oh shit, my bad,” Percy said, and Finn snorted as Will cuffed him on the side of the head.

Finn unwrapped a watermelon jolly rancher and popped it into his mouth as he watched students and families pass by. Percy nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. “Where’s Tremz? Thought you were surgically fused at this point.”

“Fu—” he cut off as Will leveled the captain stare at him. “Heck off. He’s in his medieval history class, he’ll be back soon.”

“Speak of the French-Canadian devil,” Percy shouted as Logan walked up the path to the house, backpack on his shoulders and snapback on his head—backwards, per usual. He looked good in the crimson Harvard Hockey hoodie he was wearing; Finn’s eyes caught the fraying at the cuffs and his stomach swooped as he realized it was his, that Logan must’ve swiped it this morning before heading out. 

“Bonjour,” Logan said, oblivious to the state of Finn’s internal organs.

“Bone-joor,” Percy replied before Finn could say it. “Very French of you. And shorts in October. Very Canadian of you.”

“We haven’t even had first frost yet.” Logan looked from Percy to Finn. “How much candy did you let him eat?”

“Too much,” Will answered for him. “Don’t you have class next, Marshy?”

After a complicated handshake with Finn that neared 15 seconds long, Percy grabbed his bag and took off at a slow jog. Finn wasn’t happy that he left, exactly, but he was happy that Logan walked around the table to take his spot right beside him.

“How’s that black plague treatin’ ya?” he asked as Logan slid his backpack off and under the table.

Logan’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Better than it’s treating medieval Europeans. But the reading is a little…”

He looked away—embarrassed, maybe, or frustrated. Finn knew he hated that English still tripped him up sometimes, though the amount he’d improved in just a few semesters was damn impressive. Finn kicked his shin lightly. “I got you. Would’ve flunked out last spring if it weren’t for you, so. Bring on the plagues.”

Logan kicked him back and sent him a grateful smile. And just because he couldn’t help it, Finn plucked at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“You left it on my chair,” Logan said, but Finn saw a little bit of color in his cheeks that he was pretty sure the afternoon chill didn’t put there.

It was a shoddy excuse, but so was Finn teasing him about it being “a little tight in the shoulders, Tremz, you gym beast” just so he could put a hand on one of those broad shoulders and squeeze. Logan was warm and so solid even through the layers; his hand lingered just a second too long before he let it fall away.

The next half hour passed quickly as trick-or-treaters came and went. The sun had just started to sink lower in the sky when a girl who couldn’t have been older than five or six walked up to the table, her guardian hanging back a ways. She had a hockey jersey on and was carrying her helmet, probably tired of wearing it around. 

She was closing in on Logan, who’d ended up on the opposite end of the long folding table as Finn at some point, when the big animatronic ghoul in front of the porch lurched and let out its tinny scream. The girl jumped, looking terrified, and tears filled her wide brown eyes.

“Oh,” Finn heard Logan say softly; his brow was knitted with concern as he walked quickly out from behind the table and crouched down in front of her. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned to look at her adult and then back at Logan. It seemed like she was trying not to run away.

Logan nodded at her jersey. “You play hockey?”

She nodded.

“Me too. All these guys are on my team. What’s your favorite position to play?”

That drew her out of her shell. “Goalie,” she said with a quiet confidence as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I see. You know what I know about goalies?” The girl shook her head, but clearly looked interested at whatever Logan was about to say. He leaned in like he was telling a secret, then said, “They’re the bravest ones. Also the craziest.”

Finn’s chest warmed at the way she laughed, at how Logan had gotten her from near-tears to happy and chatting in no time at all. He never got to see Logan with little kids; all their siblings were older. It was nice. It was sweet. It was doing things to Finn’s heart that he’d rather not think about.

In the end, the little girl—Harper, she told Logan as he filled her candy pail until it was overflowing, then filled her helmet, too—skipped away in a great mood. Logan was still smiling a little after they’d gone as Finn walked over to him.

“She was cute.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais.”

“You, too.” It was out of his mouth before he could shove it back in. Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “You were cute with her,” he explained—not that that really made it better.

But Logan looked pleased that he’d said so, even as he shrugged. “It’s not hard when they’re adorable. She said she’s a goalie.”

“Oh, so the skeleton thing should’ve been afraid of her.”

Logan laughed. “That’s kind of what I told her.”

Finn wanted to say so much. You’re cute all the time. You should only wear my hoodies. You’ll make a great dad someday. I want to share that someday with you.

Instead, he took Logan’s hat off and ruffled his hair. “Dinner?” he asked. “Burgers? Hog’s Head?”

Logan took his hat back and put it back on, but he wasn’t even pretending to be annoyed. “Ouais, let’s go now before they make us clean up.”

As they snuck off behind the house toward the pub, Finn took a handful of cherry jolly ranchers out of his pocket and put them in Logan’s. Logan laughed, then did the same for Finn with the watermelon ones. 

“Happy Halloween, Tremz.”

“Happy Halloween, Harzy.”

#sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #breakaway lumosinlove #finnlo #o'knutzy #my fic #ficoween 2023

[odetothestars]

Harvard Finnlo song? Maybe perhaps?

The vibes just remind me of them when I hear it idky

(OCs by @lumosinlove ❤️)

#lumosinlove sweater weather #vaincre lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #finnlo #Spotify

[fruitcoops]

Hey! I hope all is well. I really enjoy your account and I want to thank you for all your hard work to run it, it doesn't go unnoticed.

I also had a fic rec if you wanted to think about it. I'm craving a good harvard finnlo story, where they are being very obviously in love with each other but won't admit it. I know you have something like it, but I just love every different take on this

I hope you have a wonderful week:)

Fic O'Ween Day 5: Ritual, with our favorite silly little lovebirds to put in Situations. Mega love to @noots-fic-fests for the fest and @lumosinlove for the Harvard boys :)

The impulses seemed to catch him when he least expected it. Frenetic, nearly frantic energy—pale hands flexing and teeth worrying marks into a thin lower lip. Fingers fidgeting, ripping at essay edges, tapping pens like Morse. It surged in him and filled his face with blossom-pink. Turned his ears red. It was as if the urge forced itself free and wrested control of every bit of him. That, Logan could relate to. Urges had never been gentle with him, either.

“What do you mean?”

Finn fixed him with a quizzical look. “New York? The city?”

“No, I—yes, I know.” The glorious blip of attention was gone, focused once again on a haphazard backpack. “Why?”

Paper rustled as Finn waved a vacant hand. “Just needed to.”

Logan frowned. “Is Alex okay?”

“What?” Confusion deepened the crease by his mouth; Finn didn’t bother looking up. “Far as I know.”

“So you’re going all the way to New York for a weekend, and you’re not driving—”

“Gas is expensive.”

“—and not even going to a game?” And you’re not taking me? It coated his tongue like the caramel from Finn’s Dunkin runs. He stomped the thought down before it could threaten his teeth. “Don’t you have an exam next week?”

“It’s fine.”

“Harz—”

“It’s fine, man,” Finn repeated, shooing him gently aside to dig around in the dresser for socks.

Logan pushed himself up on the edge of Finn’s desk and watched him rummage. He was tight around the shoulders and jaw; his hoodie sleeves were pulled all the way to the heels of his hands. The redness in his cheeks lingered in a soft arc. Maybe overheating, from the radiator. Maybe he was just frustrated. Knowing Finn, eight different emotions and a million thoughts were on rotisserie. Logan bit the inside of his cheek. “Is it…is it your mom, or…?”

He fell quiet when Finn straightened, socks in-hand and brows pinched in the middle. “Logan, what are you talking about?”

You’re leaving on one of our only free weekends and being cryptic about it. Also, I can’t come, and I’m going to think about that for the next several days whenever I wake up and your bed is still made. “You’re being weird. Stop it.”

“Why am I being weird?” Finn half-laughed, resting his hip against the dresser.

“You’re spending eight hours on a train to visit home when you have a car, an exam, and a free weekend to just hang out.” Logan shrugged. “It’s weird. There’s a party tonight. Don’t you have a fanclub to look after?”

Finn’s brow arched with amusement. “Who, you?”

“Non—fuck off, god,” Logan grumbled, kicking at him when he passed. Finn’s laughter lit up the sunset shadows in the corners of their room.

“I’m literally fine, just missing home.” Finn tossed the socks into his bag blindly, already reaching for something else. “I guess Alex just had a buddy get traded and he’s kinda down, so we’ll probably just hang out. Video games, movies. The usual. It’ll only be an hour or so to the station if I take the subway. And I’m not worried about my exam, anyway.”

The tension in his neck told a different story, but Logan wouldn’t press. A stressed Finn was a distracted Finn, and he was allowed to be selfish for every bit of focus when he was about to leave. “Do you need a ride?”

Deodorant, toothpaste, and a third paperback made their way into the duffel. “I’m taking the train.”

“A ride to the train station, dumbass.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

Logan tossed a wool cap at him. “That’s why I offered.”

Finn finally paused for more than a breath; his forehead pinched, and Logan watched him draw his lip back between his front teeth. “Isn’t there a party tonight?”

“Ouais.” Finn was looking at him like that meant something. “Quoi?”

“Don’t you want to go?”

“Do you need a ride?” Logan countered.

“No.”

“Do you want a ride?”

Finn glanced out the window. His nose scrunched on one side. “Kinda.”

Logan spread his hands. “Then I’ll take you. Easy.”

“But—”

“Non.”

“Okay.” Finn looked at him for a long moment, then smiled, almost to himself. “Cool. Thanks.”

“This is why you have a roommate.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He still seemed pleased, despite his huff. Logan would never understand. It was delightfully entertaining all the same. He swung his feet while Finn finished up—like this, he could practically follow the path of Finn’s disorganized mental checklist.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be allowed to actually drive you there,” he joked when Finn slung his (full to bursting) duffel over his arm.

That got him a snort of laughter. “There will never be a day you’re allowed to drive my car while I’m in it, Tremblamalay, unless it’s a fucking hearse.”

“I’m a good driver!”

“I didn’t say you weren’t!” Finn propped their door open with a foot and snagged his keys off the hook. “Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling.”

“You basically are.”

“You want me to yell? Because I can yell at you. Ah—”

Logan broke off with a curse as a pool noodle swung from the open door to their left. “Oh, hey,” Percy said, shock falling to a smile in an instant. “Where are you two off to?”

“Train station,” Finn answered. He cocked his head. “What’s with the shit?”

“Party, duh. Heading home?”

“Just for the weekend. Lo’s driving me.” Something in Logan’s stomach gave a giddy whirl at the jerk of Finn’s chin. It fizzled into a puddle of goo when he cracked a half-smile. “Well, he’s driving back.”

“Oh.” Percy nodded. “Damn, we’ll miss you guys tonight.”

Logan frowned. “I’ll be here.”

“I thought…”

“I’m driving back,” he repeated. “Back from the train station.”

Understanding dawned on Percy’s face, then bemused surprise. “You finally did that separation ritual, huh? Something slashed the sutures sticking you two together? You might keel over the second you cross the state line, you know.”

“Wow, Marsh, you’re so funny,” Finn parroted with a loud and brash HA HA that made Logan grin, but Percy just snickered to himself and let them through with gentle smacks to the backs of their heads.

“Go forth, young men!”

“It’s West!” Finn corrected.

“Go West, then! Or—northeast, I guess.”

Finn let Logan through the front door first (what a fucking gentleman, god, Logan was not going to survive him) before closing it with a pointed slam. “I’ll get the—”

“Passenger seat,” Finn interrupted. He swooped his bag out of reach when Logan went to take it from him. “Nuh-uh. Go sit.”

“I’m being helpful.”

“You’re going to break my trunk.” Finn shook his head. “She doesn’t need to be closed that hard, Tremz. She’s a lady.”

Logan wrinkled his nose. “Please never refer to your car as a lady ever again.”

A theatrical demonstration of proper trunk-handling was the only response Finn gave. Logan watched him come around the side of the car while he buckled in, running a hand through his hair and twirling his keyring around one finger. Logan knew what that hair felt like. Mink-soft and thick. A little wavy, when he let it grow out. It had pressed against his cheek on the bus oh-so-many times, when Finn nodded off ten miles from the nearest gas station and the roads were too bumpy for Logan to sleep.

He wondered what Finn would do if he reached out and touched it now, while he adjusted the radio and hummed to himself. The energy vibrating under his skin had calmed to a low current. If Logan could tap into it, maybe he could be brave enough to find out.

“Speak!”

Logan jumped. “Quoi?”

“Oh, it does work,” Finn said, seemingly pleased. “Logan, sit!”

“Get fucked.”

#logan tremblay #finn ohara #finnlo #harvard finnlo #coast to coast #lumosinlove #sweater weather #my fic #fanfic #fluff #weekend trip #fic o’ween 2023 #percy marshall

[we-are-swearwolves]

Another Way

(Some FinnLo college feelings. Because y’know. Love, as always, to @lumosinlove for creating these characters 🤍)

Harvard 2016, the day Finn left, 11:41 p.m.

Logan looked out over campus from his spot on the roof.

From their spot on the roof.

Was it just his now? Now that Finn was gone?

He took another swig from his whiskey. It wasn’t that he wanted to drink today away, per se, but if he felt like this he could pretend.

It was how he’d felt last night, a little buzzy, a little more bold. A little less anxious about the consequences of kissing Finn.

If he felt like this, he could imagine another version of last night.

In his mind, when he finally kisses Finn again, he rolls Finn onto his back and says, “hold on,” and kisses him and gets out of bed just for a second to lock the door. In his mind they both did undress all the way; Finn let Logan undress him.

In his mind, he looks Finn right in the eye and he walks back to the bed, shoulders squared, and climbs on top of him. He runs his hands over Finn’s chest and presses back and down and against and harder and more and he says, “in the drawer.”

In English, even. Just for Finn.

In his mind, he pulls at Finn’s shoulder and gets him to spin him around and press him into the bed, just like he knows Finn’s always wanted to.

He lets Finn fuck him. Just like that. In his own bed.

It seems fitting, actually, that for all the time he’s spent sleeping in that bed, in love with Finn the whole time, that Finn should finally get to fuck him in it.

The bed deserved that, really. Logan did too, but it was easier to think about the bed.

He looks out over campus, the view he’s shared with Finn a thousand times and in his mind, he finally lets Finn in. He finally gets to hear him say ‘Logan’ into his ear again, all breathless and wanting, like he had at that party the first time Lo kissed him.

In his mind, they come together, just like everything else they do together, and in the few sweet, open minutes after, he leans close and says quietly into Finn’s ear, “You… you know, right?”

He laughs just then, for a second to himself, even though it’s really not funny. Because somehow he knows that even in this fantasy he wouldn’t be ready to say it.

He takes another pull.

He should have actually gotten into the car with Finn. He should have rode in the car with him all the way to wherever he was going to be next. He should have spent a night with Finn away from this place on the off chance it made him feel a little more free. He should have gone with so Finn wouldn’t have to go ‘all alone with nobody I know’ and he should have gotten a train back in the morning.

He had said ‘meet a nice girl’ instead.

He looked out at the trees and the rooftops and the streetlights, and did what he’d been doing all day; he tried to remember and tried to forget all at the same time.

It must have stopped working though, because one second it was there and the next he was finally crying.

#whoops #logan’s feelings #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #coast to coast fanfic #alexa: play supercut by lorde #mine

[xxxregulusblackxxx]

@lumosinlove

What 1989 Vault tracks remind me of sweater weather characters

Slut- Natalie, I don't know why but i think she'd love the song and embrace it. This isca complement

Is it over now and Now that we don't Talk - Leo to Jack. You can not convinced me otherwise, he heard those songs and it was his breakup and after it all over again. And the "Was it over when she laid now on your couch, Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse" the HE is Finn

Suburban Ledgends - Jack to Leo. The unmarked numbers was the Lions organization. He wasn't over Leo even though they were broken up for over a year because Leo kissed him in a way that screwed him up forever

Stay don't go - We all heard this or at least me and went Harvard Finnlo like when Finn leaves for Gryffindor oh my god that song is so that scene. When Finn heard it he started crying because it just brought back all those memories

#finn o'hara #leo knut #natalie darcy #jack archer #finnlo #o'knutzy #1989 taylor's version

[mkaugust]

@oknutzyweek

Day 5 (Thursday July 21st): Harvard

Summary: approx. 1400 words.  The Sweater Weather & OMG Check Please! crossover no one asked for (except me; write what you wanna read!) *Spoilers for OMG Check Please! Year 4* I don’t know if this timeline is quite right (no one tell me if it’s wrong) but I think FinnLo and Bitty would’ve been in college at the same time.  So here’s a little something of them playing against each other and the consequences of Finn and Logan having a little think after playing against an openly queer hockey player. 

If you haven’t read Check Please! read it here it will improve your life! 

Eric had been a little distracted all game, and as the captain of a college hockey team trying its best to get a championship this year, he really couldn’t afford to be so distracted. ‎‏‏‎ 

The problem was the Harvard team.  Well, actually the problem was two specific players on the Harvard team.  They had both been watching him so closely all night and it was more than a little unsettling.  One of the players, Tremblay, was known for time spent in the box for fights, and Bitty was definitely not interested in dropping the gloves tonight.  Especially when he had no idea what it was that they would be fighting about.  The other player, O’Hara, was not as aggressive of a player as far as Eric knew, but he was definitely much bigger than Eric, so he was still keeping an eye out for hard checks.

For the whole first period, Eric was repeatedly distracted by paying attention to where the two players were and making sure they weren’t getting close to him or his teammates in an aggressive way.  By the end of the period, Eric realized that they were mostly watching him from the bench, not the ice, and they weren’t watching other players on his team in the same way.  Nothing concerning had happened during the game yet.  He spent the first intermission willing himself to relax and focus on the game.

During the second period, he tried his best to ignore the stares.  Instead, he found himself quickly distracted by observing their interactions with each other on the ice.  Tremblay and O’Hara were on the same line and they were absolutely electric to watch.  The way they communicated so easily, and seemed to always know where the other was, every pass connecting like their sticks were magically linked...it was every hockey player’s dream to have a linemate they connected with like that.

 It reminded Eric of playing with Jack. Oh.

Samwell won the game, no real thanks to Eric as he certainly didn’t play his best while so distracted.  His teammates didn’t seem to mind, too happy with their own playing for the night.  There was some light chirping in the locker room during the second intermission (Ollie had said “come on Bitty you know I like your eyes on me”) that Eric knew was actually said out of concern more than anything.  His team was protective of their captain after all.  It was enough to get him to refocus, for real this time, and he managed an assist to a goal in the third.  One more in the last five minutes of play by Whiskey and they had won.

When they lined up to shake hands with the other team at the end, Eric decided to take a bit of a risk.  He was giving all the players standard handshakes and brief good game exchanges, until he got to Tremblay.  Tremblay, who had had his eyes glued to Eric since before they lined up, watching him closely, and who was standing very close to O’Hara, their shoulders pressed together through most of the lineup.  Eric noticed they kept finding each other, like there was some magnetic draw that kept them touching at all times.  When Eric got to Tremblay, he leaned in to tap their helmets together; they were of a close enough height for it to be easy and look casual.  Anyone watching would think they knew each other and were greeting an old friend.  Eric hoped Tremblay understood and would take it for what it was; an acknowledgement.  I see you.  I’ve been there too.  You’ll be okay. 

“Great playing against you, Tremblay.  Hope we cross paths again soon.” Eric took the time to say, carefully looking him in the eye and giving him a reassuring smile.  “Thanks, man. Good game.” Tremblay mumbled before looking down and back up quickly, his face carefully neutral but his eyes clearly saying something a bit more.  They nodded to each other and Eric turned to O’Hara.  

O’Hara, who had also been watching Eric through the whole line up, and whose expression had turned thoughtful, if a bit anxious.  Eric reached out to shake his hand like he had done with all the other players, but also made sure to press his other hand  tightly to O’Hara’s other arm, enough for O’Hara to notice the touch as what it was; an acknowledgement that he had been seen as well.  “You and Tremblay are good together,” Eric told him, hoping he was reading the situation correctly.  Based on the blinding smile that suddenly overwhelmed O’Hara’s face, he was pretty sure he had gotten it right.  O’Hara gave Eric’s hand an extra squeeze before he released him and Eric saw him reach to grab the back of Tremblay’s jersey at the same time. “Great game, Bittle. See you around.”  A last smile and they nodded at each other, moving on before anyone would have noticed anything different from their interactions with other players.

Eric left the ice feeling hopefully for the two Harvard players.  Maybe he would find a way to reach out discreetly, see if he could offer support in some further way.  For now, he focused on celebrating the win with his team and looking forward to calling Jack later.  Watching Tremblay and O’Hara had reminded him of how good it felt to play with Jack, and he intended to tell Jack all about how much he missed it.

______

Some of their teammates were downstairs having a few beers, commiserating their loss, but Finn and Logan had both decided to relax in their room and maybe get to bed early.  At least, they had both made excuses about being tired to their teammates before heading up, but Logan was increasingly aware that there was something they weren’t talking about.  And that Finn was working himself up to say something, and Logan was trying to talk himself out of running away from the whole thing, pretending he wasn’t absolutely terrified.

“Samwell is a great team, don’t you think?  They played hard.” Finn broke the silence.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I was really impressed with um... their captain.”

“Yeah, he played well.  Seems to be a really... cohesive team, you know?” Finn sounded hesitant, like each word was a test.  “Must be hard... being a, um, queer hockey player?”  Logan looked up quickly to meet Finn’s eyes and found that he was watching him very carefully.  Logan nodded, but didn’t say anything, waiting.

“But he’s got a great team, right? Like, if they made him captain, they must be supportive right?” Finn went on.  Logan nodded again. Finn looked down and started fidgeting, twisting his fingers together over and over.

“Logan, I...I think I need to...no, I want to tell you something.  Can I tell you something?”

Logan moved to sit next to Finn on his bed, not able to tolerate the distance anymore when Finn was so clearly nervous.  “You can tell me anything,” he said, barely louder than a whisper, holding his breath a bit without realizing.

“I think I’m probably bi...” Finn said the words so softly Logan wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been sitting so close.  Logan reached a shaky head out to touch Finn’s hand, intending to still his fidgeting.  Finn jumped slightly at the touch and turned his head to look at Logan, finally.

Logan hadn’t realized how close they had gotten until he was looking Finn in the eye, suddenly able to feel Finn’s breath on his cheek.  “Okay,” Logan spoke the word on a breath out and Finn’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the sound. 

“Logan...” Finn whispered, clearly a bit surprised at how close they had found themselves. Like magnets, they seemed to always be drawn together. They inched closer, their foreheads touching.

“Finn...” Logan responded.  And then his lips were on Finn’s, his hand reaching up to cradle  his face without him realizing he had decided to do so, and Finn was responding quickly, his hands already tangled in Logan’s hair, pulling him closer.

Logan didn’t know what this meant, didn’t have a label for himself, didn’t know where this would go from here.  But he knew what he wanted and Finn was clearly saying he wanted the same thing.  There would be time to talk, time to work this out and decide where to go from here.  For now, what mattered was that they had found their way to each other again, that they had finally broken through the issue they had been dancing around all this time, that they had given in to the pull like they always were meant to eventually. Like magnets.

#o'knutzy week 2022 #omgcp #omg check please #sweater weather lumosinlove #finnlo #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #eric bittle

[heartthrobohara]

number 7 please! (for harvard finnlo maybe?👀)

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Tw for a panic attack 

Finn should’ve picked up on the signs.

Logan read like a book. When he was feeling anxious, he’d fidget with his hands, bounce his leg, and his eyes would flit around the room nervously, looking almost paranoid, as if something were about to jump out and attack him.

This is what Finn finally picked up on as Logan adjusted his Harvard snapback for the thousandth time, leg almost a blur because of how fast it was bouncing.

"Lo? Are you okay?"

Logan’s whole body tensed up at those four words. "Yeah." He seemed to be shaking.

Finn’s eyebrow twitched, clearly not believing. "How’s the work going?"

"It’s fine." His voice sounded different, and he was starting to breathe heavily.

This wasn’t the good type of breathing heavily, like when you just got off the ice after a long shift. It was more like hyperventilating.

"Logan."

Logan’s resolve crumpled.

He broke down, quivering and sobbing. He placed his head into his hands, breathing even quicker as a broken sob ripped out of his throat harshly, rocking back and forth. His chest was rising and falling too fast to be normal.

Finn’s heart completely broke. It sucked to see your best friend (well, crush also) be reduced to that.

He walked over to Logan, gently sitting beside him.

"Okay, deep breaths. We’re going to get through this Lo, I promise."

Logan’s face was flushed, a tear tracking all the way down to his chin. "Can I touch you?" Logan nodded.

Finn reached out to gently wipe the tears gathering on his face. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. Remember the breathing exercises?"

Logan nodded. This clearly wasn’t Finn’s first rodeo. Logan had had many panic attacks in the past.

"Try to copy my breathing, okay? Here, hold my hand." Finn gently took one of Logan’s shaking hands into his own, ignoring the pang in his own chest.

Logan began to shakily breathe in, then breathe out. When he looked at Finn, his eyes were so black that only a slim ring of green showed around the edges. Finn inhaled sharply through his nose, wiping a sweaty strand of Logan’s hair off his forehead. It was ironic as to how Logan could still look gorgeous when he was having a panic attack.

"You’re safe here, okay? We’re gonna get through this together. I promise you that."

His breathing was starting to even out, which was a good sign. "Finn…" he breathed out, resting his forehead on Finn’s shoulder. Finn slowly began to run his palm down Logan’s back, feeling the rabbiting heartbeat begin to slow. That’s what Finn did. He stayed there, holding Logan the whole time.

"See? You got through it. I knew you could do it!"  Logan let out a long exhale through his mouth, finally lifting his head up. "Holy shit. That was a bad one. I’m sorry, Harzy."He chuckled, but there was no humor in his tone at all.

Finn shook his head. "No, no, no. You have nothing to apologize for, okay? You deserve everything."

Logan smiled. "Je t’aime, Fish."

Finn groaned. "English, Frenchy boy. I speak English, not French."

Logan rolled his eyes, smirking. Finn had absolutely no idea what that meant, but all he cared about was that Logan was okay.

#finnlo #oknutzy #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #lumosinlove #sweater weather

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

pulling your partner into your lap

for cubs (or any pairing within the cubs) maybe like early days of being together! someone does it and the other is just like okay damn this is new i love it

i'm using this to write harvard finnlo (i'm going to stop spamming hazel now but last time today credit to @lumosinlove for the characters <3)

CW: drinking, drunk logan, homophobia (use of the f slur), cursing

HARVARD: Finn & Logan

Finn laughed as he set his beer on the table next to him. College parties weren't his favorite pastime but Logan had been in his head for almost a week so Finn figured he could tough it out if it helped get Logan out of his head.

Finn was in the middle of a conversation with his friend, Abeni, when Logan came stumbling in. Logan's eyes were hazy but when they landed on Finn he shrieked happily. "Finny! I was looking for you." He slurred as he made (tripped) his way over. Abeni went quiet as she watched the scene unfold with a quiet smile.

Finn laughed fondly as Logan collapsed half in Finn's lap on the couch. Finn pulled Logan the rest of the way into his lap and basked in the way Logan went limp against him.

Logan was almost never physically affectionate. He had been at the beginning of their friendship but slowly he stopped touching people at all. It was something Finn had never understood but if Logan was willingly affectionate he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to enjoy it.

Finn rubbed Logan's side gently while Logan relaxed further into him as he talked. "Abeni, you look really pretty tonight." Logan said sappily. Abeni raised a dark eyebrow before turning her equally dark eyes to look at Finn.

"Finn, control your boy." Abeni said it jokingly but Finn felt Logan tense in his arms and silently cursed. "We can't have him flirting with everyone tonight." Logan was sobering up quickly and Finn wrapped an arm around his waist to try to get him to relax again.

Their friend Max, who was listening to the conversation laughed. "Nah, let him. With the way he's clinging to Finn the girls will think he's gay. You don't want anyone to think you're a fag now do you, Lo-Lo?"

Finn glared at Max. Logan practically lept off his lap, Finn's arms falling to his side. "Fuck off, Max. I'm not gay." He said before turning around and leaving the room.

If looks could kill, Max would be dead five times over with the combination of looks Abeni and Finn were sending him.

"There's nothing wrong with being gay Max, you're just an asshole." She stood up and turned to Finn before gesturing to the kitchen. Finn nodded and sent one more glare towards Max before he followed Abeni to the kitchen.

JUST GOT TOGETHER: Finn & Leo

Finn was reading Romeo and Juliet in his room when he heard the front door open and close. Leo had been shopping, having picked the short straw for the month, for hours and Finn had missed him.

It hadn't been long but they had barely separated since they decided to give the three of them a try. Logan had left that morning for Dumo's to do some family bonding activity Dumo had threatened to kill Logan if he missed.

When Finn got to a stopping point he saved his page and walked downstairs. Leo was sitting on the couch on his phone but looked up when he heard Finn approaching. He smiled blindingly and for a second Finn forgot how to breathe.

God, how is this my life?

"Hey, come look at this TikTok account I found. They take clips of the team during games and try to lip-read what we're saying. It's really funny though because everything they say is totally ridiculous." Finn smiled and walked over to him so he could see what Leo was talking about.

Before Finn got the chance to lean down, Leo pulled him into his lap. Finn's legs resting across Leo's and his side pressed against Leo's chest. Leo rested his arm on Finn's legs and started the video.

Finn was 100% not paying attention, too busy focusing on the feeling of being so casually close to Leo. Finn wondered for a minute if Leo could feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Leo laughed and Finn felt his chest rumble with it. Finn relaxed against him and smiled adoringly. He had to admit, the videos were pretty funny.

When Logan got back about two hours later he was met with honestly probably the most precious sight he'd seen. Leo's arms were wrapped loosely around Finn's torso and his head was rested on Finn's head where it laid on his chest. Finn's legs were thrown over Leo's and they were both sleeping peacefully.

Warmth filled his chest as he took in the scene. Eventually he woke them up and moved them to the bed for an afternoon nap.

No one needed to know that his new home screen was a picture of what was soon to become his new favorite sight.

SEASONED COUPLE: Logan & Leo

Leo was sitting on their couch watching reruns of Gilmore Girls when Logan walked in after a grueling day of babysitting the Dumais' children.

Logan walked over to the couch and collapsed next to Leo. "I'm so tired." He complained when Leo did nothing but pat his back in acknowledgment.

Leo looked at him with a smirk. "You're the one who decided to spend their off day babysitting. I feel like that one's on you." Logan pouted, sticking his tongue out.

"I didn't say it wasn't I just said I was tired." Logan mumbled, the pout never leaving his lips. Leo smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him. "I'm sorry, babe. At least now you get to rest." Logan shrugged, he had never been good at taking naps.

Leo grabbed him gently by the thighs and pulled his into his lap. Logan's legs were straddling him as they sat chest to chest.

"Comfortable?" Leo asked. Logan nodded with a content sigh as he buried his face into the warmth of Leo's neck. Leaving soft kisses everywhere he could reach.

Leo's long arms wrapped around him and Logan felt an overwhelming sense of protection. A safe feeling he only really felt with Finn and Leo.

He was really lucky to have them and he told Leo so. Leo kissed his temple, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I'm lucky to have you, too."

It only took about ten minutes of rubbing Logan's back before Leo felt Logan relax completely against him, fast asleep. Leo pressed a kiss to the mess of curls that sat on his boyfriend's head.

"Love you." He whispered before turning his attention back to Lorelai, Rory, and Luke.

#o'knutzy #leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #sweater weather