“This is a really good party.”
“What?”
“This is a really good party!”
Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you smiled and scanned the rooftop. It was decorated in lights that used to be for Christmas, but you and your brother (out of force) switched all the bulbs before they were hung. You could’ve bought new lights, but he was way too hungover from the day before.
“Thanks,” you shouted back as silver caught your eye. “I’ll be right back!” You walked over to the crowd of people chanting, “Chug, chug, chug!” with a familiar face literally chugging God-knows-what out of the Stanley Cup.
You cocked an eyebrow and the crowd went wild when the Cup literally over Johnny, requiring other teammates to hold and prevent it from falling on him. He pushed the Cup away and the guys set the Cup down.
Your heart hammered in your chest when a certain curly, blonde-haired fellow popped out of the crowd and raised your brother’s hand high above his head as if he won a wrestling match.
“Winner!” Kane shouted, a little buzzed himself as he couldn’t stand straight.
You crossed your arms over your chest, but not because of the light breeze that blew over the rooftop and you were in a spaghetti-strapped, yellow sundress that landed right above your knees. There was something about your brother’s best friend that made you self-conscious.
Maybe it was how he was a rich, hot, talented hockey player and, again, your brother’s best friend – a total no-no?
“Y/N!” Johnny exclaimed, his brown eyes brightening at the sight of you. He draped an arm around Kane’s shoulders and practically used him as support, which was barely anything since Kane needed support as well. He waved a finger at you and drunkenly exclaimed, “‘ey, ‘ey, everyone! L-Let’s give my lil’-itsy-bitsy-spider-of-a-sister a round of applause for… for everything at this party! She set up everything – every-fucking-thing!”
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. You were about to walk away when you caught a pair of blue eyes staring at you.
“I think she deserves a chug from the Cup!” Kane hollered.
Your heart slightly dipped while you rolled your eyes and walked away, greeting people as you went by. You were sure as hell not going to risk getting even the slightest bit drunk in a mansion filled with wasted hockey players.
–––––––––––––––––Six hours later–––––––––––––––––
“See ya, Sharpy,” you said with a polite smile before slamming the cab door shut and watching the cab disappear into the five-in-the-morning night, where the sun began peaking. You were completely exhausted, but somehow saved some energy through the few catnaps throughout the night.
It wasn’t difficult to keep all the players in line for the night… It was just extremely hard.
Though, fortunately, sometime around four AM, most of them passed out in random places around the house. Your final tasks of the night were to give the drunken guests blankets, pillows, and buckets while shipping off the still-somehow-awake, drunken guests. The last you saw of Johnny, he was passed out in his master bedroom, cuddling the Stanley Cup with Shaw. (You made sure to take a few pictures before leaving the buckets on either side of the bed and going off to care for everyone else.)
But, anyways, the best part for you: Sharp was the last of that latter group of wandering, drunken guests.
“Finally,” you moaned, running your hands over your tired face. You walked back into the mansion, careful with the bodies lying around, and headed to your safe, locked guest room Johnny saved for you every time you visited. “I’ll murder any of the idiots if they try to wake me up,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled out your key and grabbed the doorknob.
Your tired heart dropped when the knob seemed to click open without the need of your key.
“No.” No one other than Johnny had the spare key to your room – and he was passed out in his room. Either you were not careful and left the door unlocked from the few times you went in for a catnap or…
You pushed open the door and arched a disbelieving eyebrow at the sight of blonde curls and abs.
Kane was sprawled across your twin-sized bed, his arms and legs completely hanging off on either sides of the bed. His abs were in full show as his shirt was missing – that must’ve been the thing on the wings of the fan in the foyer you passed. There was already a bucket sitting next to him, which he must’ve brought along (completely surprising since he wasn’t exactly the smartest one when drunk).
Even though you could spend weeks just watching a shirtless Kane sleep like an angel, you couldn’t help but to whimper as all you thought about was sleep. You even went as far as to gently stomp your foot against the floor out of frustration. You were pretty much awake for twenty-four hours since you actually woke as early as six o’clock to get the mansion prepped for the party since Johnny was still hungover from a party the day before.
Your noises must’ve been louder than you thought, because a pair of blue eyes were suddenly staring at your upside-down figure.
“‘ey, Y/N,” Kane grumbled, not even making an effort to move. “What time is it?”
Your body was too exhausted to even humor Kane’s questions by looking around for a clock. “I dunno. The sun’s rising, so probably five.”
“And you’re still awake?” he asked in disbelief, rubbing his face.
“I had to make sure that everyone were either unconscious or gone.”
He looked at you again and frowned, almost patronizing. “You should go sleep.”
“I was going to sleep in my bed,” you practically growled, venom slipping into your voice, “but there’s someone in it.”
His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, but he finally picked himself up to look around at his surroundings. “Oh, shit.” He threw his legs over the bed and sat on the edge, looking like a sad puppy with the apologetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just fell asleep… and… and…” He stood up and then it hit you how rude you were being.
“No, Kaner,” you groaned, waving a dismissive hand. “Just go back sleep. You’ve worked hard this entire season and you just won your third Stanley Cup.”
His massive hungover definitely kicked in, because Kane dropped without even an argument and ran his hands over his face again. “I’m sorry, Y/N… I just…”
Your body couldn’t stand it anymore. You closed the door, walked over, and crawled onto the bed. You didn’t waste a second to curl up against Kane and use him as a pillow. “I’d be sorry also, but I just want fucking sleep,” you grumbled, pressing your nose against his neck while absentmindedly toying with one of his curls. “Night, Kaner.”
His arm encircled your waist and he kept you locked in place against his side. “Night, Y/N.”

Notes

Request: Would you be able to write a one shot about being Tazer’s little sister?