They got home at different times, as usual, with different interviews and routines. Erik crawled into bed, his movement slowed by the aches he collected during the game. "Are you ok?"
Bates, who was awake and waiting, turned on the lamp beside the bed. "Yeah," Erik replied.
The older man looked over his younger lover. Erik looked run down. His fatigue was evident in his eyes. He hadn't put a shirt on, and the results of the abuse he'd taken were easily seen. "Damn," he sighed.
"What?"
Bates traced his fingers over the angry bruises on his shoulder, ribs, and hip. Erik hissed in pain as Battaglia pressed on the darkest mar, developing on his lover's rib cage. "Did you have somebody look at that?"
"It's ok."
"They could be cracked."
Erik shrugged. "So what? I'd still play."
"You played great, Colesy."
"We didn't win, though."
Bates sighed and lay back, and Erik pulled the covers up, cuddling close, trying to relax. "We will. We will win."
Erik turned his head and kissed him, his mouth open. His hand tangled in Bates' hair. "Ow, fuck." They broke apart as Erik shifted to get the pressure off his ribcage.
"I'll fuckin' kill him for that," Bates growled.
"Which one?" Erik asked. "I don't even know who it was, Batesy."
"I'll kill 'em all, then."
Sufficiently shifted to the other side, Erik smiled. "My hero."
"Yeah. Does that mean you'll kiss me again?"
"Yep," the rookie grinned. He was mostly on top of Bates anyway, and he did lean down for another kiss.
Practice the next day was inspired. Nobody wanted to go to Toronto without a win, and the guys were focused on turning the series into a best of five. So it went pretty well. Jeff was back with Sami and Ronnie, and it was easy to see he was more comfortable there.
Bates and Erik were, along with Rod, wearing the white jerseys they had for months. Erik sat on the boards, banging his skates against them. Roddy was watching the action on the ice, as Sami scored on Archie again. "I wish he'd do that in games," Bates said, skating up and shoving Erik backwards. The younger forward yelped and grabbed Bates' jersey to keep from falling backwards. Rod scowled at his linemates and knocked Bates on the back of the head.
"Just what we need, you two injuring each other."
"Aw come on, I wouldn't really let him fall."
Erik smiled at him, and Bates smiled back. Rod sighed. "Knock it off."
"BBC, you're up," Mo called, and Erik hopped down and slipped his helmet back on.
They ran through drills for another half hour before Paul sent them to the locker room. "Hey, guys." Kevyn Adams approached them. "I'm going right now to buy tickets for Star Wars tonight. You want to go?"
"Sounds good," Bates said, rummaging through his locker for money.
"Pay for me, too," Erik said, hovering.
"No."
"Yes! I'll pay you back, I promise."
"No you won't," Battaglia sighed, but handed Kevyn money for two tickets anyway. The fourth line forward moved to the next locker.
"I will too. You have no faith in me."
"My lack of faith is well founded."
"I do pay you back," Erik said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Just not...monetarily. Like, remember that time in Chicago that I-"
Bates hurriedly covered his mouth. "Knock it off." Erik said something unintelligible and Bates jerked his hand away, wiping it off, while Erik laughed. "You licked me."
"Yeah, I've done that before."
Bates groaned. "Come on, I'm hungry, let's go."
"I'm ready."
"Colesy, you're wearing one sock, no shirt, and your equipment is strewn around the room because you throw things at people."
Still giggling, the rookie finished dressing and packing his stuff up while Bates pondered why he put up with him. "We get to watch Star Wars tonight," Erik grinned as they stepped into the sunlight. He put an arm around Bates' shoulders. He was too damn cute. That's why Bates put up with him.