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rsadelleSummary: Andrew's cataloging his prospects for sharing a table when he sees Brad, still just the guy with the weird nose. He grins, and heads that way. Hockey's enough of a bond that he should be able to get half a table out of it.
Notes: Snippet for jabberwockingly, who wanted Marchand/Shaw, terrible chirping, accidental dates.
Story on AO3
Andrew meets Brad - well, doesn't really meet him at all, more like slams into him on the ice, knocking him into the boards and skating away with a whoop when it frees up the puck for Leddy to take down the ice - at a pickup game in October. Well, not really a pickup game. They're not organized enough for a league or real uniforms, but they always play the same teams, and they all chip in for the ice time and the ref.
Brad's new, and all Andrew thinks about him is that he's getting in their way. Hence the hit.
Brad scowls at him later, helmets off, cheerful chirps about the game and plans for a beer after getting thrown around.
Andrew flashes Brad his sweetest smile, which isn't that sweet, and skates backwards to the bench, holding Brad's eyes the whole way.
*
Segs slides into a chair next to Andrew thirty seconds before their Psychology of Memory seminar starts. Segs flashes the kind of smile at Professor Smith that lets him get away with that kind of shit and says, "Marchy can't stop talking about you," to Andrew.
"Who the fuck is Marchy?"
Professor Smith says, "If you're ready, gentlemen," in their direction, and Andrew shoots a glare at Segs and resigns himself to not finding out what the hell Segs is talking about until after class, if then.
"Who the fuck is Marchy?" he asks as soon as Professor Smith dismisses them with a reminder about their research papers due next week.
Segs just flashes him a smile and says, "See you on the ice." It's not helpful.
*
"Angrier than usual, mutt," Brandon says, hitting Andrew's skate with his stick when they're still gearing up. "Am I going to have to pull you off of someone?"
"No," Andrew says. "I don't need the help." He pointedly ignores Brandon's muttering to the contrary.
The ice helps, skating, checking, passing working to calm down the frantic energy thrumming through him, the lingering annoyance at Segs' cagy act.
Brad slams into him this time, not that Andrew knows his name yet, still only knows him as that guy his size with the weird nose. The hit's enough to knock him down, and Andrew gets up with a sharp grin. He's not going to let that one go.
Fifteen minutes later, Brandon's pulling him off of Brad and helping the ref throw him in the penalty box. He's supposed to be working on not taking majors, but what the fuck ever. It was a clean fight, and they're not exactly a league; they don't have to abide by anyone else's rules.
*
Andrew checks out a truly ridiculous stack of books from the library - the Psych of Memory paper, plus some extra reading for his Health Psych class and a text on cognition his advisor suggested - and heads for the coffee shop across the quad.
He gets his latte - no extra shots today; he does need to sleep tonight - and turns from the counter. He picked a shitty time of day for it, and every table is taken.
Andrew's cataloging his prospects for sharing a table when he sees Brad, still just the guy with the weird nose. He grins, and heads that way. Hockey's enough of a bond that he should be able to get half a table out of it.
Brad looks up when Andrew stands over him for a couple of seconds. He looks around the coffee shop, sighs, and kicks the other chair out.
Andrew grins at him and sits down. Brad's pretty restful to work with. He types away on his laptop, mostly without stopping. Andrew puts in his earbuds and listens to a study mix Segs swears by while he gets halfway through the chapters he thinks he wants to use for his Psych of Memory paper.
Andrew's still kind of in the zone when his phone buzzes, but he did promise to meet Leddy for dinner, so he takes out his earbuds and restacks his books.
"Thanks, man," he says to Brad.
Brad surfaces from his laptop long enough to say, "Sure."
The dismissal in it pisses Andrew off enough that he says, "I'm Andrew. Or Shawzy, whatever."
"Brad."
Andrew smirks at him. "Thanks, Brad."
Brad rolls his eyes and buries himself in whatever the hell he's doing.
*
It might be a shitty time to try to get a table at the coffee shop, but it is the best time for Andrew's schedule, so he does it again on Thursday, and Tuesday the next week. Brad's there both times, grudgingly pushing the second chair out for Andrew.
The next Thursday, it's not as busy when Andrew pushes through the door. There are a couple of free tables. Andrew gets his coffee and looks at them, and then goes over to Brad.
Brad looks up at him, then looks pointedly at the empty tables across the room.
"But I like sitting with you," Andrew says, best shit-eating grin on his face.
"You're a pain in my ass," Brad says, but he kicks out the other chair and tugs his laptop a little closer to make space for Andrew's books.
*
Segs showing up a full two minutes before their seminar starts either means there's hockey news to talk about or he's going to chirp Andrew for something.
"So," Segs says, drawing out the vowel.
Andrew doesn't say anything, and they stare at each other in expectant silence for a good ten seconds.
Segs huffs and gives in first. "It's been, like, three weeks, and Marchy still won't stop talking about you."
"Who the fuck is Marchy?" Andrew asks.
Segs laughs, like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard, and only settles down into the occasional chuckle when Professor Smith starts class.
*
Brad fucking gets in Andrew's face. He does it the whole damn game, smirking at him, goading him, chirping him with shit like, "Not enough coffee today?"
By the time the third period comes along, Andrew's boiling over, just waiting for an excuse.
Brad gives him one by cross-checking Saader and arguing over the penalty. Andrew waits for him to get out of the box and then drops his gloves.
He feels better for it, and Brad just runs a finger along the cut on his cheek, looks at the blood, and says, "I didn't take you for a cat scratch type."
"Fuck you," Andrew says, and lets Brandon pull him away.
*
At the bar, after the game, Brad slings an arm around Andrew and pushes a beer at him. "Thought you might need someone to cover you."
Andrew shrugs his arm off but takes the beer. "I'm twenty-one."
"I couldn't tell," Brad says, "with the way you throw temper tantrums."
"Fuck off."
Segs crashes into Brad. "Marchy!" He looks at Andrew. "Andrew!" He smirks at them and squeezes Brad's shoulders before disappearing back into the crowd.
"Marchy?" Andrew asks.
Brad raises his eyebrows. "Brad Marchand," he explains.
"Oh, fuck you too," Andrew mutters, more to the absent Segs than to Brad. "Thanks for the beer." He raises it in Brad's direction and melts away to find someone else he can talk to without having to think about Segs telling him, twice, that Marchy can't stop talking about him. Brandon's never any help, always hooking up and ducking out early with this or that girl, but Leddy or Saader might be around and not busy.
*
"Why are you everywhere?" Andrew drops into the chair across from Brad without waiting for an invitation, only a little more careful with his plate.
Brad looks up from his sandwich, and around at the deli with its plethora of empty tables. "You came over to me."
"Yeah, because you're everywhere," Andrew says.
"I've seen you, like, two places."
"Three," Andrew corrects. The deli totally counts.
"I'll make sure you're nowhere in the vicinity next time I go somewhere," Brad says.
"Fuck you," Andrew says.
Brad points at him with a potato chip. "You need new material."
*
Andrew really is minding his own fucking business when he turns around a shelf and almost walks straight into Brad.
"Watch where you're fucking going," Brad snarls at him, halfway distracted by the book in his hand.
"You watch where you're going," Andrew shoots back.
"You walked into me." Brad shoves him toward the wall when he pushes past Andrew.
Andrew swears after him, finds the book he was looking for, and heads in the same direction Brad went until he finds him with a table full of books. Andrew pushes a couple of the books aside, getting a glare, and sits down with his book. He was going to just take it home, but what the hell. Annoying Brad is reason enough to hang out in the library.
*
Brad's frowning at his laptop, deep line between his eyes, when Andrew walks into the coffee shop on Tuesday. Andrew orders a cookie with his latte and puts it in front of Brad before he pulls out the other chair and sits down.
"What the fuck?"
"It's a cookie," Andrew says.
"I know it's a fucking cookie," Brad says. "What the fuck?"
"Eat your goddamn cookie." Andrew shoves his earbuds in and opens his reading for Health Psych.
He doesn't look up for a good ten minutes, by which time the cookie is gone and the line between Brad's eyes isn't quite so deep.
*
There's something not right when Andrew gets onto the ice, and it takes him a moment of looking around to figure out what it is. Then he ignores Brandon's shout about fraternizing with the enemy and skates over to Segs.
"Where's Brad?"
"Couldn't make it," Segs says. "He had a program to fix or debug or whatever the fuck he does at the last minute."
Andrew has no fucking idea what he's talking about. "Program?"
"Program," Segs says. "For one of his comp sci classes."
"Comp sci?"
"Yeah," Segs says. "He's in the master's program." He raises his eyebrows. "Did you really not know that?"
"Fuck you," Andrew says to cover for the fact that, no, he really did not know that. It does explain why Brad's always on his laptop.
*
"Would you just fuck him already?" Segs asks, very loud and a bare fifteen seconds before Professor Smith calls them to order. "The fucking sexual tension is killing me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Andrew mostly lies. As usual, Segs smiles at Professor Smith and Andrew's the one who gets glared at.
"I'm serious," Segs says at the end of class, still too loud, and this time with everyone's undivided attention. "He's into it. You're into it. Just bang and put us all out of our misery."
"I have to go," Andrew totally lies. He's just dignified enough not to literally run away from Segs.
*
Brad looks less tense when Andrew next shows up at the coffee shop, but Andrew buys him a cookie anyway, and Brad frowns at him when he shoves it under his (still weird, but now Andrew also finds it endearing) nose.
"What the fuck?"
Andrew scowls at him, then bends down and kisses him too hard. "Eat your fucking cookie." He drops into the chair across from Brad.
Brad stares at him, then grins, sharp, and kicks his ankles against Andrew's. It tugs a reluctant smile out of Andrew, especially when Brad manages to put his thumb through a chocolate chip in his cookie and spends longer than necessary licking the chocolate off his skin.
It's just too bad it's going to make Segs happy.
Notes: Snippet for jabberwockingly, who wanted Marchand/Shaw, terrible chirping, accidental dates.
Story on AO3
Andrew meets Brad - well, doesn't really meet him at all, more like slams into him on the ice, knocking him into the boards and skating away with a whoop when it frees up the puck for Leddy to take down the ice - at a pickup game in October. Well, not really a pickup game. They're not organized enough for a league or real uniforms, but they always play the same teams, and they all chip in for the ice time and the ref.
Brad's new, and all Andrew thinks about him is that he's getting in their way. Hence the hit.
Brad scowls at him later, helmets off, cheerful chirps about the game and plans for a beer after getting thrown around.
Andrew flashes Brad his sweetest smile, which isn't that sweet, and skates backwards to the bench, holding Brad's eyes the whole way.
*
Segs slides into a chair next to Andrew thirty seconds before their Psychology of Memory seminar starts. Segs flashes the kind of smile at Professor Smith that lets him get away with that kind of shit and says, "Marchy can't stop talking about you," to Andrew.
"Who the fuck is Marchy?"
Professor Smith says, "If you're ready, gentlemen," in their direction, and Andrew shoots a glare at Segs and resigns himself to not finding out what the hell Segs is talking about until after class, if then.
"Who the fuck is Marchy?" he asks as soon as Professor Smith dismisses them with a reminder about their research papers due next week.
Segs just flashes him a smile and says, "See you on the ice." It's not helpful.
*
"Angrier than usual, mutt," Brandon says, hitting Andrew's skate with his stick when they're still gearing up. "Am I going to have to pull you off of someone?"
"No," Andrew says. "I don't need the help." He pointedly ignores Brandon's muttering to the contrary.
The ice helps, skating, checking, passing working to calm down the frantic energy thrumming through him, the lingering annoyance at Segs' cagy act.
Brad slams into him this time, not that Andrew knows his name yet, still only knows him as that guy his size with the weird nose. The hit's enough to knock him down, and Andrew gets up with a sharp grin. He's not going to let that one go.
Fifteen minutes later, Brandon's pulling him off of Brad and helping the ref throw him in the penalty box. He's supposed to be working on not taking majors, but what the fuck ever. It was a clean fight, and they're not exactly a league; they don't have to abide by anyone else's rules.
*
Andrew checks out a truly ridiculous stack of books from the library - the Psych of Memory paper, plus some extra reading for his Health Psych class and a text on cognition his advisor suggested - and heads for the coffee shop across the quad.
He gets his latte - no extra shots today; he does need to sleep tonight - and turns from the counter. He picked a shitty time of day for it, and every table is taken.
Andrew's cataloging his prospects for sharing a table when he sees Brad, still just the guy with the weird nose. He grins, and heads that way. Hockey's enough of a bond that he should be able to get half a table out of it.
Brad looks up when Andrew stands over him for a couple of seconds. He looks around the coffee shop, sighs, and kicks the other chair out.
Andrew grins at him and sits down. Brad's pretty restful to work with. He types away on his laptop, mostly without stopping. Andrew puts in his earbuds and listens to a study mix Segs swears by while he gets halfway through the chapters he thinks he wants to use for his Psych of Memory paper.
Andrew's still kind of in the zone when his phone buzzes, but he did promise to meet Leddy for dinner, so he takes out his earbuds and restacks his books.
"Thanks, man," he says to Brad.
Brad surfaces from his laptop long enough to say, "Sure."
The dismissal in it pisses Andrew off enough that he says, "I'm Andrew. Or Shawzy, whatever."
"Brad."
Andrew smirks at him. "Thanks, Brad."
Brad rolls his eyes and buries himself in whatever the hell he's doing.
*
It might be a shitty time to try to get a table at the coffee shop, but it is the best time for Andrew's schedule, so he does it again on Thursday, and Tuesday the next week. Brad's there both times, grudgingly pushing the second chair out for Andrew.
The next Thursday, it's not as busy when Andrew pushes through the door. There are a couple of free tables. Andrew gets his coffee and looks at them, and then goes over to Brad.
Brad looks up at him, then looks pointedly at the empty tables across the room.
"But I like sitting with you," Andrew says, best shit-eating grin on his face.
"You're a pain in my ass," Brad says, but he kicks out the other chair and tugs his laptop a little closer to make space for Andrew's books.
*
Segs showing up a full two minutes before their seminar starts either means there's hockey news to talk about or he's going to chirp Andrew for something.
"So," Segs says, drawing out the vowel.
Andrew doesn't say anything, and they stare at each other in expectant silence for a good ten seconds.
Segs huffs and gives in first. "It's been, like, three weeks, and Marchy still won't stop talking about you."
"Who the fuck is Marchy?" Andrew asks.
Segs laughs, like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard, and only settles down into the occasional chuckle when Professor Smith starts class.
*
Brad fucking gets in Andrew's face. He does it the whole damn game, smirking at him, goading him, chirping him with shit like, "Not enough coffee today?"
By the time the third period comes along, Andrew's boiling over, just waiting for an excuse.
Brad gives him one by cross-checking Saader and arguing over the penalty. Andrew waits for him to get out of the box and then drops his gloves.
He feels better for it, and Brad just runs a finger along the cut on his cheek, looks at the blood, and says, "I didn't take you for a cat scratch type."
"Fuck you," Andrew says, and lets Brandon pull him away.
*
At the bar, after the game, Brad slings an arm around Andrew and pushes a beer at him. "Thought you might need someone to cover you."
Andrew shrugs his arm off but takes the beer. "I'm twenty-one."
"I couldn't tell," Brad says, "with the way you throw temper tantrums."
"Fuck off."
Segs crashes into Brad. "Marchy!" He looks at Andrew. "Andrew!" He smirks at them and squeezes Brad's shoulders before disappearing back into the crowd.
"Marchy?" Andrew asks.
Brad raises his eyebrows. "Brad Marchand," he explains.
"Oh, fuck you too," Andrew mutters, more to the absent Segs than to Brad. "Thanks for the beer." He raises it in Brad's direction and melts away to find someone else he can talk to without having to think about Segs telling him, twice, that Marchy can't stop talking about him. Brandon's never any help, always hooking up and ducking out early with this or that girl, but Leddy or Saader might be around and not busy.
*
"Why are you everywhere?" Andrew drops into the chair across from Brad without waiting for an invitation, only a little more careful with his plate.
Brad looks up from his sandwich, and around at the deli with its plethora of empty tables. "You came over to me."
"Yeah, because you're everywhere," Andrew says.
"I've seen you, like, two places."
"Three," Andrew corrects. The deli totally counts.
"I'll make sure you're nowhere in the vicinity next time I go somewhere," Brad says.
"Fuck you," Andrew says.
Brad points at him with a potato chip. "You need new material."
*
Andrew really is minding his own fucking business when he turns around a shelf and almost walks straight into Brad.
"Watch where you're fucking going," Brad snarls at him, halfway distracted by the book in his hand.
"You watch where you're going," Andrew shoots back.
"You walked into me." Brad shoves him toward the wall when he pushes past Andrew.
Andrew swears after him, finds the book he was looking for, and heads in the same direction Brad went until he finds him with a table full of books. Andrew pushes a couple of the books aside, getting a glare, and sits down with his book. He was going to just take it home, but what the hell. Annoying Brad is reason enough to hang out in the library.
*
Brad's frowning at his laptop, deep line between his eyes, when Andrew walks into the coffee shop on Tuesday. Andrew orders a cookie with his latte and puts it in front of Brad before he pulls out the other chair and sits down.
"What the fuck?"
"It's a cookie," Andrew says.
"I know it's a fucking cookie," Brad says. "What the fuck?"
"Eat your goddamn cookie." Andrew shoves his earbuds in and opens his reading for Health Psych.
He doesn't look up for a good ten minutes, by which time the cookie is gone and the line between Brad's eyes isn't quite so deep.
*
There's something not right when Andrew gets onto the ice, and it takes him a moment of looking around to figure out what it is. Then he ignores Brandon's shout about fraternizing with the enemy and skates over to Segs.
"Where's Brad?"
"Couldn't make it," Segs says. "He had a program to fix or debug or whatever the fuck he does at the last minute."
Andrew has no fucking idea what he's talking about. "Program?"
"Program," Segs says. "For one of his comp sci classes."
"Comp sci?"
"Yeah," Segs says. "He's in the master's program." He raises his eyebrows. "Did you really not know that?"
"Fuck you," Andrew says to cover for the fact that, no, he really did not know that. It does explain why Brad's always on his laptop.
*
"Would you just fuck him already?" Segs asks, very loud and a bare fifteen seconds before Professor Smith calls them to order. "The fucking sexual tension is killing me."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Andrew mostly lies. As usual, Segs smiles at Professor Smith and Andrew's the one who gets glared at.
"I'm serious," Segs says at the end of class, still too loud, and this time with everyone's undivided attention. "He's into it. You're into it. Just bang and put us all out of our misery."
"I have to go," Andrew totally lies. He's just dignified enough not to literally run away from Segs.
*
Brad looks less tense when Andrew next shows up at the coffee shop, but Andrew buys him a cookie anyway, and Brad frowns at him when he shoves it under his (still weird, but now Andrew also finds it endearing) nose.
"What the fuck?"
Andrew scowls at him, then bends down and kisses him too hard. "Eat your fucking cookie." He drops into the chair across from Brad.
Brad stares at him, then grins, sharp, and kicks his ankles against Andrew's. It tugs a reluctant smile out of Andrew, especially when Brad manages to put his thumb through a chocolate chip in his cookie and spends longer than necessary licking the chocolate off his skin.
It's just too bad it's going to make Segs happy.