Brendan Shanahan: 
Steve Yzerman: 
by me
Rating: R
Pairing: Brendan Shanahan/Steve Yzerman
Disclaimer: This is fake, fiction, not real. I'm not implying anything about
the values or orientations of those involved. It all originates in my
overactive imagination (comes from not having television as a child).
Summary: Brendan is worrying.
Notes: He's really protective on the ice, isn't he? And I apologize for the,
uh, sweetness of this.
"Are you-"
"I'm ok, Shanny."
"Now, how did you know I was going to say that, huh? I was going to ask if you
were happy to go to the conference final."
"You were not," Steve said, starting to stand and wincing as he did.
Immediately, Brendan reached out to steady him. "Jesus, Stevie."
"I'm fine."
"You aren't. I'm worried about you, Stevie. I'm worried you'll get hurt worse."
"I know you are, you took poor Demitra out today, you were so worried."
"Yeah, well..."
"And I'm sure you rushed through your interview to get back here and hover
over me, too."
"Um..."
"I think I can walk to the shower all by myself, Bren." Brendan looked down.
Steve was standing with all his weight on the left side. He looked back up
to meet his captain's eyes. "I'm ok, Bren," Steve said again, softly,
squeezing Shanahan's hand.
Finally, Shanny nodded. "Yeah, ok. I'm just gonna go...uh, take this off," he
gestured to himself, still fully dressed expect for the skates, gloves,
and helmet. He wondered back through the room to his locker.
Steve stood under the spray for a long time, letting the warm water pour over
his battered body. He closed his eyes. Four days of rest. Four days of
light practice and light workouts before either San Jose or Colorado would
be intent on slamming him into whatever was available, preferably knee
first. Four days of -
Arms encircled him from behind, and a warm body pressed into his own, urging
him to lean back. "Guess who." Four days of Quality Brendan Time.
"Hey," he said. "Great game. You played great."
"You too. God, Stevie, I love you so much. I don't know how..."
"You tell me that after every game."
"I always mean it. You are amazing." He laughed, and Steve could feel the
vibrations of it in Brendan's chest. "Amazing Stevie." He ducked his head,
kissing Steve's neck.
"Not in the locker room," Steve murmured. He still hadn't opened his eyes.
"There's no one here," Bren replied, nibbling softly.
"Except me," a voice called from out of sight. "But I don't really count then,
do I?"
"No, Hullie, you don't. Sorry." Brendan told him, biting a little harder.
Steve sighed.
"If you don't stop that now, you won't be able to," he said, not wanting
Brendan to stop. He loved being there, supported by him, the water
cascading over them both.
"Who says I need to stop?"
"Well, me, for one, but again, I don't think I count," Hull shouted.
"Quit eavesdropping and go home, Brett!" Brendan replied, eliciting laughter.
"Ok, ok, I'm going," he called. They heard the door slam.
"See? No one here."
"Much as I'd like...not in the locker room showers, Bren. And I don't think my
knee can withstand...um, anything. Let's just go home."
"So you're not ok."
Yzerman finally opened his eyes and turned in Brendan's grasp. "You know how
not ok I am, Bren. But it can't be any worse."
"It can always hurt worse."
"And pain, I can handle."
"Yes," Brendan agreed softly, kissing him. Steve kissed back, devouring
Brendan's mouth, losing himself in the taste.
"Not in the locker room," Bren muttered as they broke apart.
"Go take an actual shower, then. And let's get home."
Another kiss, and Brendan did as he'd been instructed and slipped away.
Once home, Shanahan was able to steer his captain into bed pretty easily. It
was better there than standing, when Steve could take enough medication
that the ache in his knee dulled and he could just enjoy Brendan curled up
against him. He went home, usually, but it was easy to stay out all night
without question when you win round 2 of the playoffs. "So," Shanny
murmured, his mouth close to Steve's ear. "I think you just want to sleep."
Steve just pulled closer, his leg across Brendan's, his head nestled against
his shoulder. "Sleep can wait a little longer. We weren't done with that
kiss thing in the shower."
"If you insist."
"I do."
"Maybe-"
"Quit mothering, Brendan. Not morning. Now."
"How did you know I was going to suggest morning?"
"Because. I know you pretty damn well."
"I'm glad."
"Me too."
"I do love you, Stevie."
"I love you, too. I'm going to kiss you again now."
"Ok," Shanahan whispered, as Steve did.