**Warning, some of this is fictional, but most of the action and stuff that occurs in this is based on the Stars Vs Hawks game from October 9...I just added in the Kazer fluff stuff and angry Duncs!

Jonathan followed Patrick down the visitor’s tunnel, as the team headed toward the ice rink of the American Airlines Center in Dallas, Texas. Jonathan prodded Patrick with his stick, chuckling to himself. Patrick rolled his eyes in good nature. He kept turning around and telling the older man to “stop it” and “quit it,” but the captain of the Blackhawks ignored him.

Before long, Patrick jumped onto the ice and launched off, attempting to get far away from Jonathan. But the captain was just as speedy as he was and caught up to him, ramming him into the boards gently.

“Come on, man! Quit following me! Go away!”

“You can’t outrun me that easily Peeksy!”

“You didn’t give me a chance!”

“I did too!”

Patrick cross-checked Jonathan away from him. The smaller blond forward skated to the blue-line and scooped a puck into the blade of his stick. “Come and get me Jonny!” he taunted, as he stick-handled in place, before racing forward and pulling his sick, sassy shootout skill moves.

He pointed finger-guns in the captain’s direction, but Jonathan had already narrowed his eyes. He pushed off and skated up to the blue line. He scooped a puck into his stick and then tried his shootout skills. He missed, going wide.

“Aww, Jonny can’t be like Kaner! Showtime, baby!”

“I’ll show you showtime, Kaner, sweetie!” Jonathan laughed. “I’ll show it to you right now. Get in that bench!”

Patrick suddenly stopped smiling. He skidded to a halt at the door to the bench and stared at his friend. “Jonny, no. We can’t. Not yet. You know that.”

Jonathan skated up to him and leaned on the railing, staring up into his best friend’s twinkling blue eyes. “Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you are upset. It tears my heart in two, but buddy...you’re a cutie!”

Patrick wrinkled his nose up. It only turned the captain on more. He pushed himself up and used the railing as a crutch. He purposefully stuck his face in front of Patrick’s. The blond man didn’t move, he let it happen. He was so frozen in place and distracted by his friend’s kind amber eyes. Man, forget his eyes, Jonathan’s were gorgeous! A simple, yet complex and deeply rich brown.

Jonathan gave him a quick peck on the lips, before they heard a loud, “OH, GET A ROOM YOU TWO!!” Startled, they both snapped their heads to the side, breaking out of the tender moment that they had. It was Patrick Sharp. The prankster.

“Fantastic…” Jonathan moaned. “What do you want Sharpie?”

“Uh, yeah?” Patrick lifted his gloved hand up to his face and touched his lips. He hoped that Sharpie hadn’t seen them kissing.

Luckily it didn’t seem like he had or like he cared. “Well, captain and blondie, maybe you want to quit talking to each other and come join the warm ups. You are the captain of this team are you not?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m coming!” Jonathan sighed, rolling his eyes. He watched the prankster turn on his skates and launch back over to where the drills were occurring. Then the leader winked to his friend, slapped him on the butt, and shot over to join, laughing in amusement.

Patrick folded his arms and shook his head. “Oh, Jonny, what am I gonna do with ya?”


The game started with Patrick on the second line with Brandon Saad and Andrew Shaw. Jonathan was on the first line with Marian Hossa and Patrick Sharp. They faced-off against the extremely talented and dangerous sounding first line of the Dallas Stars: Jamie Benn, Tyler Seguin, and Valeri Nichushkin.

“Come on Jonny!” Patrick screamed from the bench. “You can do it! Segsy has nothing on you!”

Jonathan sent him a wink, before the ref dropped the puck and both men went for the disk, briefly tangling up. Jonathan eventually won it though. He sent it back to Duncan.

The Stars came out strong and badly out-shot and out-muscled the Blackhawks, but Chicago remained strong and determined. It was the first game of the season, of course the rust was showing.

Jonathan made it back to the bench. “Go on and get us a sick backhander, Peeksy!”

Patrick hopped over the boards and onto the ice. He zoomed off with little hesitation. Andrew and Brandon were battling along the boards. Andrew laid out a Dallas Star and Brandon was able to get the puck out. He sent it to Patrick, who shot it at the goal, narrowly missing.

A few seconds later he had the puck again. He took another shot, attempting a backhand, but Kari Lehtonen gloved it and the play was whistled dead.

The players, unable to go for a line change lined up at the faceoff dot to the right of the goalie in the Chicago offensive zone.

Patrick Kane found himself trying to get open, in order to receive the puck from one of his linemates. He tried to shake the Dallas defender on him, getting chirped at the whole time. He thought about how he could get free from the guy, but the only way he could think of, was to cross-check him or shove him away. He decided to try the latter.

The blond man mustered all of his strength and shoved himself into the defender. The man stood his ground, unmoving. Instead Patrick lost his balance on the failed check and fell to the ice. (Yes, this did happen in the game! Pretty funny! Kaner tried to be a man and make a solid hit, but ended up on his ass!) He scrambled back to his skates instantly and adjusted his helmet.

“Dammit!” he screamed in frustration. He made it back to the bench and sat back down.

Chicago made a line change. Patrick sat down and sighed heavily. Jonathan heard him. He leaned over and patted his friend on the back. Patrick looked up to see his best friend and team captain smiling at him. “It’s okay, Peeksy, you tried. Shake it off and get the next one.”

Patrick removed his helmet and shook his golden blond hair lock out. He then ran his fingers through his hair and put the headgear back on. He took a drink from his water bottle, before he watched his captain take the ice. As much as he tried to focus on the game as a whole, he could only find himself gazing intently at the man named Jonathan Toews.


The third period began, after a mixed second period showing. The score was 2-1, Dallas (Trevor Daley with a sick snipe goal, Duncan Keith with a blue liner slapshot (from Brent Seabrook and Patrick Sharp) and Cody Eakin). For this period, Coach Q had told the group as soon as they came back to the bench that he was shaking the lines up. Patrick found himself with Jonathan, much to both of their pleasures.

The new line took the ice first. Patrick flanked his friend, who sent him a ton of winks and “sexy faces.” (Well as sexy as Jonathan Toews could make it.) Tyler Seguin rolled his eyes.

“Hey come on man, quit oogling your friend and get your head in the game. Your team is playing like shit right now. The shots are what, 30-15?”

“Leave him alone, Seguin!” Patrick snapped.

“I can fight my own battles Patrick,” Jonathan snapped back, rather harshly. His tone made the blond man a little shocked inside. But he shook it off. He knew that the man was only covering for their deep romantic interest for one another. He was putting on the facade, but Patrick could tell that the man was struggling to keep it in his pants. He wanted to make out with Patrick so much and the winger could actually spot beads of sweat running down his face. He was doing good though; he hadn’t cracked yet.

The puck finally dropped and Jonathan beat Tyler again. Patrick launched off, as his friend sent him the puck. Sure they played on the power play together, but man, it felt a bit awkward and a tiny bit serendipitous that they were together again in a line. Valeri Nichushkin came over and tried to take the puck away from the blond man.

However, Patrick stick-handled like only he could and managed out-smart the poor guy. At first. Then the Dallas Star just slammed into him and separated him from the puck. “Sorry!” the Star shouted.

Jonathan saw Patrick tilt his helmet back into position as he chased after Tyler and dug his stick in to get the puck back. Patrick joined him, flying down the wing and streaking toward the goal. Jonathan saw the possible chance and send the disk to him Patrick caught it cleanly and pulled his spin-o-rama move. He shot at the goal, but Kari robbed him again.

“FUCK!!” Patrick yowled.

“Kaner, shake it off!” Jonathan hissed, across the ice.

“Shut up Jonny!”

Jonathan made a beeline for the blond man. He skidded to halt and skated alongside them, as they headed to the dot to get set. “Hey, you’re doing alright, buddy. It’s okay, so you can’t connect right now, keep trying.”

“I know. Just leave me alone right now, okay. You can’t keep coming over and hanging with me!”

As the third period carried on, Patrick and Jonathan’s chemistry was off. They weren’t feeling the connection and the puck kept bouncing off sticks and being turned over. It was making everyone extremely frustrated. But Jonathan rallied the troops on the bench.

And sure enough it paid of a ton, as Chicago went to a powerplay and the familiar power play personnel were sent out, including the secret lovers. They all got set in their spots. Jonathan was a pro at winning important faceoff moments. He wasn’t nominated for three Selke Trophys for nothing!

Patrick Kane got the puck and passed it to Duncan Keith, who sent it up to Jonathan Toews. They rotated around, bewildering the Stars, until Patrick Sharp set up high in his prime slot. He shot three slapshot bombs at the net and each missed but Jonathan and Patrick retrieved the puck and got it back to him. On the third shot, the goalie gloved it and they started again.

This time, Jonathan won the faceoff of course, sent it to Patrick, who sent it back to Duncan, who nudged it over to Sharpie, as he got set in his spot yet again. This time he scored! A powerplay goal for the Blackhawks and the game was tied up now.

As they smashed together, Jonathan got a little carried away and attempted to kiss Patrick and was caught by Duncan. The guy tapped Jonathan’s shoulder, giving him a questioning look. They skated back to the bench, disguising all of the unease, until they sat down on the bench. Duncan sat beside his captain.

“I saw that, Jonny. What’s going on, man? You can’t kiss Kaner, he’s your friend!”

“I didn’t try to kiss him, Duncs! I was trying to tap his helmet with mine…” He was a horrible liar.

The defenseman rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever you want to believe. But you can’t be gay with your friend, it won’t be good for the team!”

“I’m not!” Jonathan tried. His palms were sweating in his gloves and his mouth was dry. He snatched his water bottle to wet his throat some.

“Just keep your tongue out of Lil Peekaboo’s mouth, okay? We can’t have anymore drama on this team. Keep in your pants or the bedroom and I won’t tell Q.”

Was Duncan threatening him? Jonathan punched the defenseman in the arm and frowned. He moved seats, moving closer to Patrick, who had his head cocked in interest. His eyes shimmered a remarkable blue shade under the arena lighting. It made Jonathan’s mouth a little dry. He sat down and told the blond man what had happened.

Patrick bit his lip. He looked up to see Duncan gazing sternly at them. The winger slipped his glove off and flipped the defender off. Jonathan saw him mouth, “Fuck you, Duncs.” Then he shoved his hand back into his glove and looked at Jonathan.

“After we win, to celebrate I’m going to treat you to the night of your life!”

“I look forward to it, Peeksy!”

“It’s the least I can do, after you gave me the GREATEST birthday present EVER!!”

“So you liked me tying you up, eh?”

“Yes. In a sick way, yes!”

“I’ll do it again tonight.”

“No, no. We need to keep things interesting. Try different things you know. Tonight, let’s have a candlelit dinner and share a desert?”

“What’s so special about that? That doesn’t sound very fun or entertaining.”

Patrick leaned over and whispered to him softly, “We’ll share the silverware.”

“What-what do you--mean?”

“I mean, we share a fork or a spoon.” He wagged his eyesbrows at his captain and grinned.

“Oh...OH! Oh, Patrick Kane you sly, sly, sly little player you!” Jonathan pushed him lightly.

Patrick retaliated. The excitement was enough to push the Blackhawks into Overtime and finally into the dreaded, luck-based Shootout. The Stars went first, starting with Jason Spezza. Corey Crawford stood tall and put an end to Spezza’s try. Jonathan Toews went next and came close, but hit the post. Patrick patted him as he came back, with his head dropped downward.

“I’ll win this for us Jonny. I’m going to dedicate this goal to you.”

Jonathan looked up and tears formed in his eyes. He nodded. “Go get ‘em Peeksy!”

Tyler Seguin was up. He darted forward, but Corey stood tall and alert and snuffed his try. And now Patrick skated up for his turn. He sent a look to Jonathan locked his eyes on the puck and then on the goalie. He felt his adrenaline pumping through him, as he shot forward. The puck stuck to his blade like a magnet. He pulled some moves and brought the disk to his stick and just got it under the cross bar and into the net for a goal!

He raised his arms up, cheering and immediately sped over to Jonathan. Then they headed over to Corey, because he was the “real MVP.” He had a helluva game to keep the Hawks in it.

The two used the chaos in front of them to slip over to the side and they managed to finally steal a true, passionate kiss with one another.

Notes

OMG!!!! I couldn't help it!!!! :PPPPPPPP
And I HAD to put little Valeri in there! Poor guy....unfortunately you were playing against the Hawks without Sergei. Don't worry baby I have faith that you'll be fine and that you will come out and own the Preds! The Preds got NOTHING on my Valeri Nichushkin!!!! :DDDD
And the fucking Sabres have nothing on my Kazer!!!! Kick their pathetic asses Hawks!! Kaner, hat trick maybe tomorrow in your hometown???? Tazer, maybe you also get a hatty????Lead by example, eh?

Next up: Celebration in Chicago and in the Toews' House! ;)