rftwfics:

           The
hints around Snowy and Tater’s respective apartments were subtle. One wouldn’t
be able to find them if they didn’t know where to look. Still, they were there,
those little pieces of evidence that showed just how much time they spent at
each other’s places.

           There
was gold cleaner in a cabinet in Snowy’s bathroom. The gold chain that Tater
took off only to shower and to sleep was one of the few things he brought with
him from Russia. It was his grandfather’s, and he was meticulous in its care.

           In
Snowy’s bathroom was also Tater’s preferred stick of deodorant, and in Tater’s
there was a pencil of Snowy’s brand of eyeliner. Tater also hadn’t owned a blow-dryer
until Snowy started staying over.

           Snowy’s
dog, who he’d rescued from the pound and Tater had named Puck (“Like a hockey
puck?” Snowy had asked incredulously. Tater had laughed, a big, booming thing. “Yes,
but also like Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite, no?”) had both a Snowden
and a Mashkov Falconers jersey. In public they joked that Tater had gotten his
own jersey for Puck and would sneak him into it whenever some of the team was
over, but in truth Snowy had gotten it for him. When he was especially missing
Tater, usually when he went back to Russia to visit family, Snowy would put his
own Mashkov jersey on and the two of them would match.

           Tater
was probably also Puck’s favorite human. His runs were longer than Snowy’s, and
he gave the best belly rubs. Puck was a small dog, and Tater had no problem
carrying him around like he was a baby. He loved it, tongue lolling out of his
mouth happily while his big brown eyes gazed adoringly up at Tater. Snowy
sometimes wondered if he looked the same, when Tater would pick him up against
his will and carry him around the house. He hoped not.

           In a
drawer of the bedside table at Snowy’s apartment was one of Tater’s favorite
children’s books in Russian. On nights that he was over and they weren’t
exhausted from a game and Snowy could feel his love for this man swelling in
his chest he would ask Tater to teach him more Russian. He would lean back
against Tater’s chest in bed with the book spread out in front of them, spine
creaky and letters large, and Tater would go over the Cyrillic alphabet with
him and teach him a few words. Sometimes his pronunciation would cause Tater to
smother laughter into his hair, but Snowy didn’t mind much. He blatantly
laughed in Tater’s face every time he said “pumpernickel” and “discipline”
anyway.

           There
was one of Snowy’s extra large coffee mugs in Tater’s cabinet, for when they
had to pull themselves out of bed for morning practice. Snowy kept his back up
anti-depressants in this mug, shoved to the back of the cabinet so no one would
find them, but relevant enough to his morning routine that he wouldn’t usually forget
them.

           Forgetful
days were hard, made him feel like he was being crushed by the weight of the melancholy
in his chest, made it hard to breathe. Tater usually noticed quickly, but there
wasn’t much he could do in public. He would hover, checking in periodically to
see if Snowy needed a break from everyone. He was especially protective on
those days, checking even well-meaning team mates if they got too close or too
bothersome. He always made it look like an accident, but Snowy knew it was
deliberate.

           There
were other days too, days when they had nothing to do and no one to see, when
Snowy could just let himself feel. It was a relief sometimes, to let all the
emotions flow, and he would lay on top of Tater on the couch while Cosmos with Russian subtitles would play
on the TV. They were days tinged with the overabundance of sorrow inside of him
that sometimes needed to leak out, but they were good days all the same. Tater
would pet his head, make sure he ate, and smile at him even when he couldn’t
smile back.

           Inside
Snowy’s dresser was a periodically changing t-shirt of Tater’s, given back when
it no longer smelled like him in exchange for another. It was great for lonely
moments, when they had to be apart either due to travel or keeping up
appearances. Tater had a different method, instead forcing a teddy bear in a
Falconers jersey onto Snowy every time he came over. At first Snowy obliged him
if only because of his puppy dog eyes, but eventually it became natural for him
to carry the bear around Tater’s apartment, nuzzling it in attempt to leave
some comfort with his partner. He offered to spray some of his cologne on it as
well, but Tater said he liked the smell better when it was directly from him.

           There
were some careless things they always left behind as well, unmatched socks,
ties, books, belts, the occasional toothbrush. There wasn’t much they couldn’t
claim as their own, or write off as left behind after a drunken night spent at
a friend’s house. The things that couldn’t be treated so blasé were well
hidden, but even so they were good friends, everyone knew that. There was
nothing that couldn’t be explained in some way, so they left pieces of
themselves behind for the other to find, to look at, to love, and felt so much
closer for it. In a way it was almost domestic, and it was certainly love.