Hello Eve! Could you write a little something for Harzys birthday please? 💘
Finn O'Hara if you see this I hope you have learned to let people love you to the fullest extent. Combined with a request for Logan using pet names, and the first of the random-number-generated requests! Cubs credit goes to @lumosinlove, credit for the running scene goes to the discord <3
A Birthday in Three Acts:
Logan huffed, puffed, and huffed some more. His sneaker slipped on a patch of dry grass growing in the cracks of the sidewalk—it seemed their 8-year lifespan was nearing its end—and he caught himself on Leo’s elbow at the very last moment. A smile, startlingly bright against overwarm pink cheeks, turned on him and made Logan’s already-tight lungs constrict. He was many things. A runner was not one of them.
However, Logan was a doting boyfriend, and for that reason alone he continued dragging himself forward on jelly legs while the birthday boy trotted on ahead of them as if the sweltering August heat wasn’t creeping up on them with each passing minute.
Logan wasn’t sure whether to be offended by the clear fact that Finn was slowing himself down to their speed. “Mile six!” Finn announced as they passed a signpost, not breaking pace for a moment. “You’re doing great, babes.”
“Professional athletes, Harz,” Leo reminded him, though he sounded a little breathless.
Finn turned to run backward for a few steps; his eyes flickered over them both and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth when Logan met his gaze. Bastard. “Bastard.”
“Birthday bastard,” came the immediate correction.
“Still a bastard.” Logan squinted down at his watch and swiped away a bead of sweat that had dripped from the cesspool that used to be his face. “Six miles? For real?”
“There is no way you do this every day,” Leo agreed. The idea of waking up early on purpose to go running without anything chasing him was just…horrifying. Perhaps eight years of knowing Finn should have desensitized Logan, but accompanying him at age 23 was no better than at 18. At least Logan had learned his lesson by mile 3 back then.
Leo had no such background.
"This is, like, the halfway mark, right?”
Finn barked a laugh and turned back around. “Sweet, sweet, Knutty,” he sighed. “How long am I gone every morning?”
“Do not make me do math right now.”
“The answer is 90 minutes. It’ll be on the post-run pop quiz. And if we’ve only been running for 40 minutes—”
“Kill me,” Logan muttered.
“—we still have five minutes until the midpoint, where we’ll do a water break because I don’t want you to smother me in my sleep. Come on, it’s not even 8:30 yet!”
Leo shook his head, swiping the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. “Y’all fuckers are mean.”
“And gorgeous, kind boys like you love me anyway.” Long legs, dimples, sweat stretching his shirt over broad shoulders…Logan narrowed his eyes. The universe was making it awfully hard to be anything but head over heels for Finn O’Hara.
(If he balled up the front of that shirt and kissed Finn as breathless as he and Leo were at the halfway mark, well, that was nobody’s business but their own.)
Leo swayed to the hum of Etta James, leaning back into a solid chest and slender hands that settled in his belt loops to rock his hips for him. “At last,” Finn sang softly with a kiss to the hinge of Leo’s jaw that made his stomach go tumbling. “My love, has come along. My lonely days are over…”
Leo let his eyes slip shut, smiling to himself. “Only took me six and a half years.”
Another kiss, slightly lower than before. “No more lonely days, mmm?”
“Thank you for dinner.” Finn’s hands slipped from his belt loops and smoothed along his narrow hips, pressing a little harder into the spots that always got stiff during practice while his mouth dragged absently over the bend of Leo’s neck. His nose poked Leo’s pulse point. “You really should’ve let me do the dishes, though.”
I love you I love you I love you—”No chores on your birthday, O’Hara,” he said through a lazy grin. The blatant ‘I love you’s always made Finn blush so prettily, but Leo loved the contentment on that freckled face whenever he could assure Finn that they were all taken care of. A soap bubble popped in the pan; he leaned back for a proper kiss on the lips, perhaps lingering a little longer than necessary to taste Finn’s happy sigh, before straightening and bumping against Finn’s front with his butt. “Go find Lo, he was pining while you were in the shower.”
“He can come find us,” Finn mumbled into the back of his shoulder with a bite to the edge of the joint.
“Go,” Leo laughed. “Let me finish. It’ll be two shakes.”
Finn groaned a little, resting his chin at the bend of Leo’s neck. “I love your idioms. And you. And your accent. Fuck, your accent.”
“I love that you use the word ‘idioms’ on a regular basis. Now get, I’ll join you in a sec.” He flicked the water back on with one last nuzzle of damp red hair, listening for the familiar pad of Finn’s socks while he puttered around the kitchen before wandering off in search of Logan. Leo would bet every cent in his bank account that Finn couldn’t walk a straight line even when he was stone-cold sober.
“Oh, bonjour,” Logan laughed from the living room as the couch creaked. There was a moment of shuffling—Leo could picture it if he closed his eyes, Finn’s face pressed into a tan chest, Logan’s hand finding its way into his thick waves, their legs tangling—and then comfortable quiet punctuated by the sound of chaste kisses.
“Hey, baby.” Finn’s voice was lambswool-soft and barely audible. Logan would be smiling down at him, then. Smiling Leo’s favorite smile.
“You’re so bony.”
“For you? Always.”
“Tais-toi, not like that.”
Finn’s snickering made Leo bite his lip around a comment and a grin. Ganging up on Logan was always a fun time, but the dishes would be left in the sink for at least 18 hours if he didn’t finish them now. Their evening plans didn’t involve anything beyond takeout in the bedroom and thoroughly drowning Finn in affection.
A kiss, and a kiss, and a kiss, and a catch of breath from Logan… “Knutty’s almost done with the dishes.”
“Ouais, mon cher, je sais.” Finn’s wispy little sigh made Logan laugh. “Is that all it takes, my sweetheart? A kiss and a pet name? Petit chou.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Finn said dreamily.
“He called you a cabbage!” Leo called. Fuck it. Plates could wait. He rinsed his hands and tossed the dish towel aside before heading out into the living room, where Logan had wound Finn up in his arms and was engrossed in kissing every square inch of his face. “A little cabbage. Hey, boys.”
“Hi,” they chorused.
Finn wriggled around for a second before opening his arm; Logan shifted one leg aside to make room, and Leo squeezed into the tiny space to plant a sturdy smooch on Finn’s mouth. “Lo wasn’t getting there fast enough,” he informed Finn, who looked about ready to dissolve under their attention. “Did you have fun at the party?”
“Of course I did.”
“The cake was good?”
“You could’ve given me a brick and it would have been delicious.”
Leo swatted him on the hip as satisfaction bloomed in his chest. “Oh, stop.”
“Never.” Finn’s nose was cold on his own before he titled his head for a kiss. Logan’s strong hands combed through both their hair and Leo sank into the feeling, letting his eyes slip closed to savor the moment like it was soaked in honey.
A run, and a party, and his family, and an evening in with his favorite people. A truly delicious cake from Leo; sweet talk from Logan. Both rare treats. Enough bookstore gift cards to last ‘til next year as well as a few well-loved favorites from those who knew his heart laid in the used and adored books rather than the sparkling new. Finn had always liked things that were a little broken-in. A little pre-loved before they could fall into his hands and he could give them the careful care they deserved.
Logan’s snoring was slightly muffled in his bicep, and Leo shuffled beneath his arm before quieting again. Finn watched the stick-on stars glow on their ceiling, their edges blurring in his godawful vision and forming new constellations. I should paint those, he thought, running his fingers through Leo’s curls and over Logan’s soft back. There’s glow-in-the-dark paint. Not a bad weekend project. Just need a brush, a ruler, maybe a stepstool…
“Since when are you up past 9:30?” Despite his teasing, Leo’s hand moved in soothing circles over his stomach. He shifted closer, his head on Finn’s chest, one leg draped over his thigh. “Everything alright?”
“It’s so good,” Finn murmured. Once upon a time, he had worried his voice would wake Logan. The past year and a half had showed him that the vibration of his chest would only send his shortest boyfriend into a deeper sleep, one of the many gifts he was given every day. Birthdays were irrelevant when he could wake up to this each morning.
Leo’s smile brushed his ribs. “Glad to hear it.”
“You made it good.” It was too late for coherency—Finn’s eyes felt heavy, his limbs like stone. “Both of you. Everything is good with you. You tried so hard to make it right for me.”
A soft exhale brushed over his skin. “You deserve everything right, Finn.” He closed his eyes at the sound of his name curled around Leo’s tongue. “You deserve all the good every day.”
Sandwiched between them, bracketed by their hearts, it was an easy thing to believe.
Hey Lucy! Could you please write some goalie love? Maybe some hurt-comfort with Leo going to Kasey for advice or something like that? 💛
Hey, yellow heart 💛 Here's some Kasey giving Leo advice after his first game loss.
Of course, Leo had lost games before. You didn't get through a high school hockey career without experiencing the low. Still, he hadn't been expecting the guilt which was curling in his stomach, pulling at insides until he felt like he was going vomit.
The rest of the team already seemed to have moved on from the 2-3 loss, but Leo slumped back in his stall, the jeers of their opponent's fans ringing in his ears. Even the itch of sweat drying against his skin wasn't enough to get him moving.
"Hey," Kasey's voice cut through the buzz of team antics. "You okay?"
Pressing his tongue against his back teeth, Leo thought about shrugging off the question. "How do you do it?"
Kasey cocked his head, settling into the stall next to him.
"Knowing that the loss was your fault," Leo said.
Kasey blinked and cocked his head further. Was he a fucking cat? The silence was too much.
"Okay," Leo said "I get we're a team, but if I'd just saved the goal."
"And if Sirius hadn't lost the puck in the first place?"
"Sirius' job isn't not to lose the puck. My job is to save goals."
Kasey laughed, "sorry, but you're really stretching there." He sat more upright. "Look, Leo. Sometimes we'd have to be a superhero to save a goal. Sometimes we just make a mistake. But just because our mistake leads directly to a goal, it is not our fault. There were ten other mistakes that led up to that point and if you don't blame them, then you don't get to blame yourself either."
The logic was sound, but the thoughts whirled in his brain trying to twist Kasey's words into something that would support his own narrative.
"Stop being stupid," Kasey stood. "Not an insult, I used to think the same thing. It's normal. But you're going to have to get over that self-depriciating shit real quick if you want to keep any semblance of mental health in this game. Come on, take a shower, you stink and we're going to Sid's. Cap's getting burgers."
"Excuse me?" Sirius span around.
"The rookie needs cheering up. You're Captain," Kasey smirked. Leo was impressed, he didn't think he'd ever be confident enough to tell Sirius what to do. As much as the Captain clearly tried to present a welcoming persona, he was intimidating.
James whooped. "Burgers! Yes! Thanks Pads. Can Lily come?"
"OK, D'accord," Sirius threw his hands up in surrender.
"Love you, Cap!" Finn called, starting a chorus of declarations of adoration.
"Thanks, Sirius," Leo laughed. "I appreciate it."
Apparently the whole team didn't hate him, and despite the familiar tightness of anxiety across his chest, Leo knew it was going to be okay. Better than okay, maybe. The Lions were a pretty great bunch of people.