by me
Rating: R
Pairing: Battaglia/Cole
Disclaimer: FAKE! Well, Bates does live with his best friend, just not Erik. Erik lives with...well, uh, his wife and daughter...
Summary: post-game
Notes: Nothing today.
As soon as Ronnie came back into the locker room, talking ceased and they applauded. Ron rolled his eyes. "I don't get you guys. Why the hell are you cheering for me?"
"We love you, Ronnie," Erik grinned at his captain.
Francis raised an eyebrow at the rookie. "Better be careful, Colesy, your boyfriend might get jealous."
"Of you?"
"What's your point?"
"You're, like, old. Really really awesome and stuff," he amended quickly, "but old."
Ron just shook his head, but smiled as the rest of his teammates offered him congratulations. After a few more minutes, Paul Maurice came into the room, trailed by the rest of his coaching staff. "Excellent effort, boys," he said, hinting at a smile. "And congratulations on advancing to the Eastern Conference Finals." He held up his hands to avoid more cheering. "Now let's hustle and get out of here. We've got people waiting on us."
He left, and most of the guys immediately started getting ready to go. "How many people do you think will be at the airport?" Erik asked Bates, sitting beside him.
Battaglia shrugged. "Couple hundred, I guess. We're not gonna get there until like 2 am." He looked at Cole. "Now go take a shower or you can't sit next to me on the plane."
Sighing dramatically, Erik wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the shower room.
It took about another half hour, but the bus to the airport was quick. Bates watched the Montreal skyline get smaller out the window. He waved. "Bye, bye, Montreal."
"Have a nice summer," Erik murmured beside him.
The plane was noisier than usual. Roddy, Wes, Ronnie, and Aaron Ward were playing poker. Marty Gelinas, Sami Kapanen, Archie, Nic, Tommy, and Marek Malik were involved in some sort of foreign language mad libs game which no one else ever understood. And everyone else was awake. Erik sighed and bounced in his seat somewhat. "This is so cool."
"The playoffs?"
"The playoffs. Winning in the playoffs. Sitting here on this plane next to you and with this team. I fuckin' love this team. And I can't believe we're playing in Raleigh, North Carolina and we're selling out the ESA with the noisiest fans in the league. And we're all over the radio and TV and papers...cool as hell."
"Yeah...I love our job."
*
*
*
*
"Hey, look, Colesy, we suck."
"Are you playing the chat room again?" Erik asked, sitting on the arm of the chair, sipping coffee.
"Yeah," Bates answered, typing 'canes do not suck' as an articulate reply to GoLeafsGo's insult.
"All the people in there are morons, anyway."
"Yeah, but it's fun sometimes. To hear what people are saying."
'canes do suck' appeared on the screen. 'NJ fans said it, Habs fans said it, Leafs fans are saying it, and it's still not true.' Bates smiled as he hit enter.
"Why do they think we suck?"
Bates shrugged. "No superstars, I guess."
"But we've proven we have awesome goalies, two of them, a very solid defense, an obviously excellent mix of passers, scorers, and physical forwards. We have unbelievable team chemistry."
Erik ran a hand through Bates hair, and his linemate smiled. "Yeah, good team chemistry. Especially between lines.
"Morning Batesy, morning Erik." Bates' best friend, John, a housemate in Raleigh, stumbled through the living room in route to the coffeepot. "When do you guys have practice?"
"About an hour. Wanna come?"
"Sure," he yawned.
Erik giggled. "He's so cute when he's half-asleep."
Bates gave him a horrified look. "Ew, he is not cute."
"He is," Erik smirked.
"Don't say that!"
"Aw, Bates, I'm hurt!" John said, looking more human after some caffeine. He put an arm around Erik and smiled. "Erik appreciates me."
Bates knocked John's arm off his boyfriends shoulder and sighed. "Are you sure you're straight?"
"Yes. By the way, I upheld your honor in that chat room yesterday. They were saying you were gay."
"He is gay."
"Yeah, but not the way they meant it. He's, like, really gay, they just meant he was a pussy.
"The stupidity of some people amazes me," Bates sighed. He logged out of the chat room. "I'm going to get ready for practice."
"Ooh, me too," Erik grinned, getting up.
"Why would you take a shower before practice? You take one after practice."
"Showers are good," Erik remarked, his arm around Battaglia's waist.
"Oh." John frowned. "I didn't need to know that."
There were twin grins at him as the two players went up the stairs. "We scare him a lot, don't we?" Erik asked as Bates kicked the door to his room shut.
"Nah, he just likes it when you pay attention to him."
"Mmm. He needs a girlfriend."
"Yeah, or a dog."
Erik laughed, then pulled Battaglia over and kissed him deeply. Bates sighed and kissed back. The beard tickled. It actually annoyed him a lot. But he wasn't going to say anything stupid, like asking Erik to shave. It was the playoffs. "Bates we really don't have time for that," he smiled as Bates' hand slipped inside his sweats.
"Well, not all of it. But some of it." He shoved Erik gently backwards onto the bed.
The rookie blinked up at him. "Ok," he said. "As long as we're not late to practice."