21: Castles, Candlesticks, Clogs and Carrots

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this chap. is kinda a wreck, haven't had time to edit around school work. enjoy

ROCKET

Waking up in only shorts, no boxers, pressed head to toe against the guy I've been crazy about for months is really refreshing. So refreshing that I don't even get embarrassed about my morning wood, despite the fact that I got off like three hours ago so it should be more chill than normal, but it isn't.

"Morning." Håkon feels me shifting on him and I have to sit up, stretching out my shoulders and elbows.

"Morning." I mumble right back at him.

"That wasn't english." He wraps his arms around my waist and kisses the back of my neck.

"Right," I laugh a little. "Your nose feeling okay?"

"My nose is alright," he's now got one hand touching my hair, the other splayed across the bottom of my stomach. "Your hair is a mess."

"It normally is when I wake up." I run my own hand through it and accidentally brush across his fingers.

"Give me a second." He shifts and then I feel both his hands messing with one little chunk of hair.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing important." He grabs the loose rubber band off my bedside and I feel little tug.

"This feels important."

"It's just a little braid," He laughs. "It's not like I cut any of your hair off."

"I mean," I lean back into him as subtly as possible. "It wouldn't be the first time someone's threatened that."

"Oh all right," Håkon's arms go around me. "But I think it's hot, so I'm okay with the long hair."

"You are? I thought it was just me."

"Yeah, I like it," He leans over and sets his lips on my shoulder. "What do you say me and you go out today."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a date."

"You'd do that?" I ask. "It's the two of us, alone, in the city? Hundreds of people are bound to recognize you."

"I just won't hold your hand, it'll still be a date."

"I mean, if you're up for it, yeah." I turn around and kiss him again.

"Then it's a date?"

"Sure."

"Afterward we have to go back to my house for food, then I can stay over here again if you'd like."

"Yeah, I'd like that," I kiss his nose. "Now let's get dressed. I've got a date idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling you," I stand up and hop right over to my closet. "We should stop by your house before we go so you can get clothes."

"Right," Håkon stays in bed for a moment or two and I root around for jeans, wash-faded jeans. Steph calls them my yeehaw jeans because they look very farmer. Over that I put on a black shirt and a flannel.

"Might want to button up that flannel all the way," Håkon is propped up on his elbows, watching me.

"Hm?"

"Might want to button it all the way up."

"Okay, but the outfit."

"Milo you missed the point." the corner of his lip kicks upward. Then I turn a little pink.

"Håkon, I'll kill you."

"Alright," He stands up and puts on the sweats he was wearing yesterday, leaving his shirt off. He's hot.

"Put it away put it away put it away." I hand him the hoodie he was wearing.

"It's hot." He gives me a smile, pushing my buttons. 

"I know you're hot."

"Not what I meant," He smiles, leaning over to give me a quick kiss. "But I'm glad you think that."

"Just put on a shirt," I laugh, pushing it at him. "Please."

"Alright, my apartment, then whatever you have planned."

"I'm driving!"

"I don't want to die this morning."

"I'll only speed a little." I pinch two fingers together and he just rolls his eyes, lifting his hoodie up over his head and pulling it down. 

***

"So what are we doing?" Håkon's got on another hoodie, but jeans this time. Over the hoodie is his winter jacket.

"I've been here for like three months, I want to see some stuff, and I'm bringing you with me." I barely manage to parallel park the truck, then hop out. Håkon comes up next to me, the arm of his jacket brushing the arm of mine.

"So you're taking me touristing?"

"Yeah," I bump him. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No, I'm just interested in what there is to do in Regina, Saskatchewan."

"Apparently you guys have an entire castle," I start to walk down university avenue, and we make our way to the front doors of Stone Hall castle. "I've been wanting to do this for a while, just didn't have the right person to go with."

"I'm a little big," He ducks under the door and I say hi to the lady at reception. It's an open day, so we get to walk around on our own. Håkon has to duck under all the doors available.

"Six three was fine, but no, they can't accommodate giants here," I point at a dope ass candle stand. "That's metal."

"I feel like you had a bigger scene phase than you lead on to."

"Maybe," I turn pink around the ears. "Okay it wasn't like an actual scene phase, my mom would have killed me, but, I got close. I've told you this."

"How close?" He's a little near to me, next to the candle stand, his elbow is brushing against mine, his gaze is steady on me. 

"Uh," I push my hair behind my ear and show him the little hole. "That, and then uh," I have to laugh. "I, uh, can skateboarded, but not well because I was fifteen and got bullied kinda a lot for it."

"Sounds like an actual phase, not an almost one."

"I feel like you had a poetry phase." I lead him into the next room.

"No need to come for my neck like that."

"But am I wrong?"

"No." He's pink around the ears.

"See." I take a picture of the archway and send it to Steph, who's currently getting home. "Steph's home."

"It's good that he's back, he needs some time to get over whatever that was with his family."

I nod, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. "We can bother him later if you want."

"I'd," Håkon heaves a sigh. "I'd rather not turn up at any of the guys' houses together, alright? I'm not ready for that."

"Yeah, no problem," There's people in the next room. I poke Håkon. "Look, Wolves hoodie."

"Kid's got fashion sense," Håkon mumbles back at me. "It's Paxy's."

"How can you tell?"

"Number on his hood," We're keeping our voices creepily low. "Eighty one."

"Ah, he's got class."

"Lotta class," Håkon is trying not to smile. Then he realizes we're two full grown men staring at a kid that's maybe 10. I turn around, but Håkon stays at a side angle.

Out of the corner of my eye, the kid's eyes go wide. Håkon puts on his game face and tips his chin at him. The kid is now full on smiling, he pokes his mom.

"Mom," I'm pretending to read a plaque under a painting. "Mom, mom."

"Yes?" I assume the mom turns around.

"Mom, mom, it's Rex," I turn around a little too, catching the kid's eye. "Mom!"

"Sorry," The mom is pink around the ears. "He's a big fan."

"Nah, it's alright," Håkon holds out his hand to the Mom and they introduce themselves. The kid is trying to figure out who I am.

"Picture a bigger helmet than Håkon has." I smile.

"Wait," he breaks into a huge grin. "Stojanovič."

"Bingo," I laugh. "Kid's good. Take's a true fan to know who I am."

"No, no, you're Paxton's friend!" He pulls out his shirt to show us that it's Paxy's. Håkon smiles. "Can I get a picture?"

"Sure," Håkon kneels down and tips his head at me. This is the first time I've ever been asked to get a picture. Normally that's Steph. I drop to a knee and the Mom is beyond embarrassed. She gets out her camera and the kid's got a massive smile.

"Thank you, boys," She takes a couple pictures and puts her phone back into her pocket. "Really can't tell you what that means to him." Håkon gets up to chat with her and I turn to the kid. 

"Do you play?" I ask him.

"Goalie!" He puts his hands on his hips.

"Well," I wink at him. "I doubt I'll still be in the league when you get there, but I hope to see you on the big screen someday, yeah?"

"Yeah!" He's basically jumping up and down.

"Alright, and remember to seal up your edges. Skate against the post every single time." I ruffle his hair and stand up.

"Thanks!" He whips around to his mom. "That was awesome."

Håkon glances at me and I glance back, trying not to laugh. His arm brushes mine and we enter the room next to the current and I have to laugh just a little.

"That was so cool," I snort. "I've never been asked for a picture before."

"No way," Håkon's eyebrows go up. "Never?"

"Never. It's always Steph."

"Well, pardon my Swedish, but fuck that," He wiggles his hand in his pocket for a moment. "I'm asking you for a picture right now."

"Ooo, fun," I stick my head in the frame and fix my hair. He takes one, and then I get on my toes and kiss his cheek for the next. Håkon's eyes dart around the room and he kisses me for the third.

"That was gay." I poke him in the side.

"Yeah," He wipes off the side of his face, laughing lightly. "And now I've got that moment forever."

"Perfect," I laugh. "What do you say about the next stop?"

"Sure."

"No, I'm asking you what you want to do. There's the flower place, there's a couple museums, we could go see the government buildings."

"Flowers," He shrugs. "Ah, well, no, that's exceptionally gay." We've made our way all the way back to the front of the castle, the tour taking us on a loop through it. Håkon ducks under one last doorframe and we're back in the freezing air. 

"You didn't wince that time," I bump his shoulder and he half-checks me back. "Oi, be careful, I weigh like a hundred and fifteen pounts, you could throw me."

"I think 175, but."

"Yeah, and you're like two fifty, you could kill me pretty easy."

"I won't kill you," He shoves me a little again. "I should really teach you how to absorb a check though, I'm barely bumping into you."

"I'm supposed to be a speedy little motherfucker, not a check-absorbing thing." I spread my hands in front of me.

"Bend your knees, widen your stance." he bumps into me again and I step my further foot away from him, basically catching him. "Better."

"Alright," I look at him. "Now what about if I get thrown against the boards, I feel like that's different."

"Uh, just get tense and brace for impact. It helps if you jump a little so they smush you upward instead of inward."

"Okay, so I hope I don't have to deal with that."

"Steph and I will have their neck if someone board checks you."

"Thank you, very reassuring." I snort. "Now I can tell you how to take a slapshot to the head most efficiently."

"If you want to."

"The trick is to not have your tongue anywhere near your teeth." I hold up a finger, laughing.

"Shit, really?"

"Mouthguard in place, the bigger the mouthguard the better, this single layer of plastic shit doesn't do anything." He's a little stunned. "Then keep your tongue back, don't shut your eyes. Dip or duck a little so it glances off the side but never get all the way out of the way. It'll go in if you're all the way out of the way. The trick is to head-butt it off to the side."

"Sounds like I need a better mouthguard," He mumbles. "I've got the plastic thing going because they're so clunky."

"Right on," I tuck my hands into my pockets, smiling at him. "And I like your teeth where they are."

"Yeah, I mean, the rest of 'em," He runs his tongue over them. "Damn."

My pocket starts buzzing in my coat and it takes me a couple tries to find the right zipper.

"Shit," I pull out my phone, then realize she's talking to me in Czech. "Hi mom, yes, hi,"

"Can you come over right now and fix something?"

I glance around for anyone that looks Czech. "Mom I'm on a date." I hiss.

"Well bring him, come on, chop-chop."

"Mom, a date. This is my first date and I'm trying not to fuck it up."

"God, who could it possibly be?"

"Mom, its Håkon."

"Oh good, he can get to the top shelf, come on, let's go."

"Awh, come on, please can I have a first date."

"It's urgent."

"How urgent?"

"My sink isn't draining and I'd like to drain it."

"Mom."

"It will only take a minute or two, just bring him, come on, it's not that bad."

"Mom I'm serious, this is literally my first date ever and I really like him."

"Ten minutes."

"Mom."

"I'm sure Håkon won't mind, he's a nice boy."

"I know he is, and I know he won't," I grumble, then turn to Håkon and convince my brain to go English for him. "Håkon, we gotta go to my moms for like ten minutes, is that okay?"

He shrugs. "Of course, yeah." Goddammit I was trying to get you to say no with the look on my face. I don't want to go help my mother pull whatever she tried to garbage dispose of with a regular sink out of the very much NOT garbage disposal pipe!

"Alright, Mom, I know, I'll be right there," I listen to her ramble a moment. "Love you too, mhmm, bye."

"Bye."

I turn to Håkon. "Sorry about that one."

"Nah, why not meet your mom on the first date?" He smiles. "Don't look so irritated by it, I love your mom."

"You've met my mom?"

"She's at every game with Jilly, I've met your mom briefly a couple times."

"God," I mumble. "Then you haven't actually met her. She's all bubbly on the outside but you get a half-inch in and she's a crazy Slavic mother all the way down to the core."

"How so?"

"She's mad with a wooden spoon." I mutter, rubbing the tops of my arms. All I can think is at least she isn't Russian. Lord help me if she was Russian. 

"And I'm not her kid, so I'm good."

"She's hit Steph with the spoon, you're in the same zone as Steph."

He blushes a little at that, dipping his chin down under the collar of his coat. "Ah, yeah, but Steph's Steph, what was he doing?"

"Trying to eat a cookie right off the pan. One smack had him spooked."

"Well then I won't eat cookies off the pan." He smiles and ruffles my hair, giving my head a good scratch for a second. Funny, I never thought being scratched like a dog would be enjoyable, now I completely understand why they accepted domestication. 

So, we climb back into my truck and back across the city, listening to whatever shows up on my phone, which, much to his dismay, is Africa by Toto followed by Take on Me by a-ha. 

"Hey, wait," He perks up a little from the passenger seat, realizing something. "I'm right down the road that way. What do you say we visit your mom and then have lunch at my house?"

"Smart," I take his hand in the car and he gets a little tense. "You're okay to hold my hand here."

"I know, I just," He breathes out, looking down at his feet. "I don't-"

"I can let go," I drop his hand. He lets out a sigh and picks it back up again.

"I should be fine, you know, with this."

"No, I get it, it's okay to not be fine."

"Yeah," he mumbles. "What are we doing at your mom's?"

I snort. "Her sink is clogged. We've never lived in a house with a garbage disposal, yet she thinks every sink is equipped. I don't even know where she learned to use one. So she's clogged her sink."

"Just the sink?" Håkon's thumb is rubbing the back of my hand.

"Yeah, just the sink." I parallel park badly and we wander inside, up three floors, and to her apartment. "MOM."

She starts grumbling in Czech the second I open the door and points to the sink. She smiles at Håkon but keeps mumbling.

"I can't believe my son is on a date." She sighs, eyeing me. Håkon is looking around pretending not to be awkward.

"Me neither, but it's not important, do you have zip ties or anything that could clean out your drain?"

"Sure, sure," She opens up a cabinet and produces a medieval looking hook on a string. "Use this."

"What the fuck." I mumble.

"I speak english too, Miloš," I glance at Håkon and his lips twitch as he stares up at the cabinetry, both his hands in his pockets. "Now clean out the sink, chop chop, I've got things to do."

"Yeah, I know," I mumble, fishing around in the icky water for the drain. I pull the plug and hear a little gurgle but nothing promising, so I pull my arm out and wipe it off.

Then I hand Håkon my flannel and shove my arm back down in the water, shoving the weighted hook into the drain. It falls pretty far but I catch something before long and tug. There's another gurgle. Håkon looks over my shoulder and I push it further down into the drain with one hand, trying to ignore whatever spaghetti-feeling devil tentacle impersonating carrot bit just brushed my forearm. Goddamn hell sink. I swear one day it's just going to sluuuurp  me right up considering the significant amount of time I've spent with my hand down this drain. 

"Use a wooden spoon to get it further in there," He mumbles, then hands me a spoon. I take it without a word and push the hook further. There's another catch but I keep pushing.

"Got it," I grumble, then grit my teeth and pull. "Mom, you gotta stop accidentally dropping carrot peels down here," I clean the hook into the trash and the smile at her to make it look like I'm not just a little irritated.

"It's so inconvenient to lean over the trash to get them, plus, you live right nearby, so," she shrugs.

I gape at her. "Me living nearby is not a good excuse to shave your carrots into the plumbing! Oh, let me snip all the wires in my house! My son lives down the street I'm sure he knows how to fix it! What! Why! Why!!!"  

She gives me a smile. "But you can fix it." 

I run my hands through my hair. "Just because a doctor can fix a broken bone doesn't mean I'm gonna go out there and snappy snappy! What! What the f-" I stop saying it before I finish. 

Mom turns to Håkon, who is having a very hard go of it trying not to laugh. His lips are pressed together in a thin line as he stares between the both of us. Mom clears her throat. "Anyway, would you boys like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm making Miloš's favorite."

"Sure," Håkon shrugs before I can stop him. "Any excuse not to have to cook."

I wince on the inside. "Yeah, totally, what time should we be back?"

"Six-ish?" She says. "I'll call."

"Awesome." 

***

'cause we just want to feel love and leave but our high is bound to fade

afterglow - the driver era

***

i know that lyric is concerning but you'll get it later

anyway

also yeah i haven't read this over. I have AP Gov work that was due 5 hours ago that i havent started

-rabid

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