Bates woke up when Erik's presence left his side. He listened as the bathroom door closed and the water was turned on. It ran for a while, then the toilet flushed. Erik returned to bed, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Frowning, Bates reached over and rested a hand on his stomach, stroking gently. "Erik?"
"Yeah."
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah."
"Did you just throw up?"
"Yeah."
"Um. Why?"
"Because. Because we're playing tomorrow in the Stanley Cup Finals."
"You'll be fine."
"Shut up. I'm a rookie, I'm allowed to be nervous."
Bates raised himself up on one elbow. "You think other people aren't? Aaron and Ronnie have both won two Cups, and I bet they're still nervous. Archie led the Sharks past Wings and I can guaranteed you he's nervous."
Erik sighed. "Yeah."
"Well. What are you most nervous about?"
Erik shifted so he was looking at Bates instead of the ceiling. "I don't know. Maybe...I guess it's mostly that I can sit here and be fine thinking it's just another game, but then I realize who's going to be defending me, and Batesy, it's Chris Chelios or Nick Lidstrom. The two best defensemen in the NHL. And then I get nervous."
"You know, I'm not a veteran or anything, and I've never played in the Finals either, but trust me on this, Erik. You'll be fine." Erik opened his mouth, but Bates held up a hand to keep him quiet. "Sh. I watched you get the best of Scott Stevens time and time again in the first round. You know our line carried us through Montreal, and hell, Erik, you scored the tying goal in the biggest game this team has ever had to win."
"You scored the most important one," Erik murmured, and Bates glared menacingly at him.
"Anyway...we all fell off a little against Toronto, but you didn't play like a rookie. Any other rookie would've spent the whole series in the box for taking shots at Roberts. But you just let him abuse you and as a result he was the one in the box. You have to relax and know you'll do just as well against Detroit."
"Easier said than done."
"Yes it is. But you can still do it."
Erik smiled a little. "Good thing I have you around."
"Yeah. It is."
Cole pulled Bates back down to him, wrapping his arms around him. "I guess I feel better now."
"That probably has less to do with me and more to do with the throwing up."
Erik giggled a little. "Aw, you helped."
"And if you get nervous on the ice, just picture Steve Yzerman in his underwear." Bates paused dramatically. "Actually, never mind, that'll probably give you a-"
"Do not even say it, Bates."
"Say what?"
"Fuck you. You promised."
"Crossed my fingers."
He got an elbow in the ribs. "Ass."
"Ow! I need those to play tomorrow!"
"No sex, then."
Bates cuddled his neck. "That's ok, we already had sex tonight."
"I'll get you back somehow." He thought a second. "You...let's see, when Ronnie started playing you were 5, weren't you?"
"And you were 2."
"I bet you watched him play...I bet when the big deal was made of his trade in '91 to the Pens and they won the Cup you were watching."
"Hey, you're the Penguins fan!"
"Well. If I have a crush on Steve Yzerman, you have on one Ronnie."
"No. No, I don't. Didn't."
Erik smirked. "Good thing you're not on his line, you might get all distracted."
He was blushing now, though Erik couldn't see it. "Shut the fuck up, Colesy," he mumbled.
Erik laughed. The butterflies in his stomach were nearly gone. "Aw, you know I love you."
Bates raised his head and kissed him on the lips. "Sleep well, Erik. Love you too."