keep away the cold

by colour_of_the_rain

Summary:

Love was for teenage girls that drew hearts with glitter pen, and for housewives that wore flashy rings. And Mike was neither of those fucking things.

or: ten moments where Mike realizes he loves Liam

Notes:

I read ''Thrown off the ice'' this morning.
And I couldn't get it out of my head. I shamelessly sobbed my way through the end of the story.
And before I knew it this blurb existed. So, tadaa I guess?

(Its not proof read and I'm still a dyslectic European ass who is allergic to proper comma placement, so do with that what you will.)

 

Lots of love
Colour_of_the_rain

Keep away the cold.

***

 

Ten moments where Mike realized he loved Liam. 

 

***

 

The first time Mike thought the words, I love him , was embarrassingly early. 

It happened that first summer, Mike had stood there on the deck of his boat. He had looked at the rippling water and felt an ache in his chest. And before he knew it he had opened his phone just to pull up Liam’s contact. 

He didn’t even really do the whole technology thing. But seeing Liam's name on the tiny screen still eased the discomfort in his chest. Not that he’d ever sink so low to send a text on his own volition, or openly admit that he fucking missed the kid. But still he had stared at that number for longer than he’d like to admit.

Hours later, when the sun had set, and there was just enough light left to see a couple of feet ahead, the thought suddenly crept up. I love him.

But Mike quickly dismissed it. Love was for teenage girls that drew hearts with glitter pen, and for housewives that wore flashy rings. And Mike was neither of those fucking things.

 

***

 

Antiseptic, headaches and misery had become a package deal recently. Mike’s weeks had turned into blurs a while ago. The days had shifted into appointments days or days where he could only stare into nothingness. He wasn’t entirely sure which one of those options was the better one.

Soon they talked about retirement. The dreaded words hung into the air, they dragged him down into a pit so deep he wasn’t sure he could crawl out of it again. 

But Liam didn’t have to go down with him. So he packed up the kids shit and looked how he stormed out of the door.

Mike had to swallow back feelings he couldn’t place. And he had to bite back the anger he could perfectly place, but could not get rid of.

Mike had closed his eyes before the door slammed shut. A small part of him wanted to jump up, and beg for Liam to stay. And those three dreaded words popped up again. I love him. 

But he didn’t move. He didn’t run after Liam. It was better this way.

 

***

 

Most of the days Mike just slept his days away. Not that he had the energy to do anything else. He missed being tired from exertion, and he hated being fucking exhausted from just being alive.

He often slept restlessly, as if his brain was so messed up that it even haunted him in his dreams. Which was probably true to a certain degree.

His dreams were sometimes scarily convincing. He had kept his eyes shut after a dream where warm arms surrounded him, a dream where he could hold on to a man he swore he would forget. 

And if he kept his eyes shut he could pretend for a moment that Liam was right there. All up in Mike’s personal space. 

But when his eyes finally blinked open, the other side of the bed was empty, just like his arms. And Mike realized how fucking cold he has been since he kicked Liam out. 

He realized how cold his heart has gotten too. No longer warmed by the overwhelming feeling that he now recognized, but would never name.

 

***

 

That persistent fucker was back. Of course he was, Mike should have known better to think that Liam would stay away forever. To think that Liam would have made smart choices.

Apparently Liam doesn’t do smart choices. As was evident by his shivering, and the way he had been rubbing his arms to keep warm. 

“They make clothes for that. It's called a coat.” Mike had said, trying to hide a grin.

Liam had grumbled something Mike couldn’t understand. And then Mike had unapologetically shoved Liam into the car. 

Later that night they crawled under the covers of Mike's bed. Liam insisted that it was their bed, but Mike was pretty sure he had paid for it at one point. Besides they didn’t live together, no matter how hard Liam tried to make that happen. 

But that night Liam had still been cold, even after a long steamy shower. So, he had pressed his cold hands against Mike’s warm chest, letting out a long contented sigh. Maybe Liam had done it just to be annoying, but Mike felt his heart racing under the touch.

Because he realized he would always do anything to keep Liam warm. Even if it meant cold as fuck fingers against his skin at whatever o’clock. 

 

***

 

When Liam lifted the cup into the air and roared, Mike felt pride. Pride mixed with longing for his old life.

But he had also felt something else, something fierce and strong. He had felt it a while now, but instead of fading it had grown stronger. Mike wasn’t entirely sure what to think of that.

Mike didn’t go out on the ice. He should have been on the ice to lift the cup for himself, but he wasn’t. So he didn’t go down. That right is reserved for family and those sort of fucking things. And he was merely a hockey player that didn’t win the cup. 

When Mike finally makes it back to Liam's apartment he almost immediately gets a call. I want you to be there. Liam had said on the phone. And then he said, I love you. Which was probably some fucking stanley cup induced delusional rambling.

But the words buried themselves under Mike's skin nonetheless, warming him up from the inside out. And even though he didn’t say the words back, he couldn’t help his mind from thinking, I love you too. 

 

***

 

Mike's hands had been trembling more and more. He knew it was getting worse by the looks Liam was giving him. Those small pitiful smiles that told a whole lot more than his words.

But it was at its worst when they sat on the couch together on a random Thursday. Liam leaned against Mike in a way that he could still look at him over the edge of his crossword puzzle.

After a while the scribbling of his pencil had stopped. And Mike had looked over to find Liam staring at him. Seemingly taking in every detail he could.

Liam had looked at him with so much tenderness, that Mike almost thought it would fucking smother him. But he couldn’t find himself to say anything, because he was staring too.

Staring at a face he might forget in a year, or in a couple of years, whenever his brain decided to forget everything. 

So they stared. And Mike wished he could say the words, that his throat didn’t close up every time he even thought of saying them. Sometimes he just wished he could force them out.

But he couldn’t. So he just thought them instead, I love you. And Liam smiled, as if he understood exactly what Mike had meant. 

 

***

 

When Liam had played with that stupid dog that stupidly slept in their bed, Mike had felt complete. He had stood in the doorway, silently watching the pair. They had just come back from a walk, and the cold air still lingered in the doorway.

“Hey.” Liam said.

“Hey.” Mike said back.

Liam stepped closer and slid his hands under Mike's shirt. He sighed and rested his forehead against Mike's chest. “Like a furnace.” He muttered.

“You wouldn’t need a furnace if you fucking wore a coat for once.” Mike said.

But Liam just shrugged. “Why would I do that if I can torture you instead? Sometimes you make zero sense.”

And Mike had smiled, and realized once again that he was totally gone for the kid. 

 

***

 

Things had been going downhill. But that was nothing new, downhill was the new normal. 

Mike would catch himself watching Liam more often. Take in everything he would miss if he was gone or when his mind inevitably gave up.

Sometimes he thought about speeding the process up. Ending it before he wasn’t aware of the world around him anymore. But then he would look at Liam, and he knew he couldn’t do that.

And he hated his head a whole lot. But he loved Liam more. So he stayed.

 

***

 

“What's this?” Liam eyed the package suspiciously.

“A gift.” Mike said.

“But why?” 

Mike sighed, already regretting making a thing of this. “Because you are a stubborn bratty fuck that never listens.” And I want you to be warm even when I'm not here anymore. But he didn’t say that part out loud.

Liam unwrapped the package and laughed loudly. The sound made Mike practically glow. 

“I do own coats, you know.” Liam said with a smile, holding up the black thick coat.

“I am fucking aware of that, they take up half of my closet.” Mike grumbles.

“Why would you give me something I already have? Or that I can buy for myself.” Liam asked.

“Because you have to use gifts, or else you will seem like an ungrateful asshole.” Mike said, crossing his arms. 

“Wow that’s so nic—“ 

“Don’t want to hear it.” Mike interrupted. “Just fucking wear it.” Because I love you and don’t want you to go cold. 

 

***

 

It is stupid, but the moment Mike felt his feet slip away from under him, he knew. He knew that that was the end. 

The end had come faster than he anticipated, and it was both a nasty surprise and a relief. 

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die, but that didn’t happen to Mike.

He just saw Liam, although that might have been the same as seeing your life. Because Liam had been exactly that. 

Mike could feel the gravity pull him to the ground, everything went too fast for him to catch himself, but just slow enough to think a single last thought.

He could have possibly thought, I love you , and hope that Liam would somehow feel it. But that was nonsense, so he didn't. Because I love you are just words, and words won’t keep Liam warm when Mike is gone.

So instead of spending his last steam of consciousness on useless words, he just hoped that Liam would wear his fucking coat from now on.