by Alex
Couple: O/C Dane/Weston
Implements: None
Warning: Not really meant for non-hockey fans :-)
Dedication: To M - my fellow hockey lover (I feel your pain!), and to Nelson and R - because they just don't seem to understaaaaaaand!!!
Author's Notes: This was inspired by a couple of conversations... I already know that Nelson will have a rebuttal - LOL - so I give her full permission to use my characters. I highly doubt it will take much coaxing to get a part 2 out of her. (If anyone is interested, that is.) Special thanks to AJ for the read-through and the encouragement!
Who the Hell is Lord Stanley?
The alarm clock sounded at 6:30 AM, rousing Dane from a restful sleep. He leaned over to wake up his lover with a soft kiss. "Good morning, Wes. Time to get up."
Wes barely opened one eye before rolling over and burrowing further under the covers.
"Wes. Weston! You can't be late for work. Wake up!" Dane said firmly as he rolled out of bed and looked down at the lump in the bed. He sighed and grasped the covers firmly. With a sharp yank, he swiftly uncovered his partner, eliciting a low groan.
"Okay, okay, already! I'm awake," Wes muttered as he rolled over again, pulling Dane's recently-vacated pillow over his face. It was just unreasonable for Dane to expect Wes to pop out of bed to cheerfully greet the day.
"Well, that's half the battle. Come on now, up," Dane's words were accompanied by a not-so-gentle tug to an outstretched arm.
With a long sigh, Weston dragged himself up to a sitting position and blinked lazily at Dane. "See? I'm awake. I'm up. I still don't see why I have to get up so early – just because it takes *you* so long to get ready in the mornings."
"Because, if left to your own devices, you'd sleep through breakfast, splash some water on your face, throw on random clothes, and have to drive like a maniac to get to work," Dane replied calmly as he headed into the bathroom.
"So? It's not like I really need to be there by nine. With all the hours I work, they're just lucky I show up at all. They don't get to complain about which hours I'm there," Wes bit back the rest of his smart retort. Dane didn't need to be reminded that he drove fast regardless of how early a start he got.
"Now, is that really the attitude you should have towards your job?" Dane stopped his morning routine long enough to stick his head out the bathroom door and deliver a Look.
"I don't see why that matters. It's the truth," Wes grumbled as he propelled himself off the bed and over to the closet. There was nothing like another argument about work to give him newfound energy.
The sound of the electric razor stopped just as Wes was buttoning up his shirt. He headed to the bathroom for his turn.
"How would you like your eggs this morning?" Dane queried, brushing past his partner on the way to the door.
"Left in the refrigerator, please," came the reply, seconds before the bathroom door clicked shut.
Shaking his head ruefully, Dane headed downstairs to start their breakfast. "I couldn't have settled down with a morning person. That would have been just too easy…" he murmured to himself with a wry grin.
***
Dane was just placing two plates of toast and eggs onto the table when Wes arrived in the kitchen.
"Daaaaane! I'm not hungry!" Wes complained loudly as he headed to the refrigerator. Returning with a Mountain Dew, he sat in his chair and glared at the unwanted food in front of him. He opened his drink, took a large gulp of his preferred morning nourishment, then sighed happily. "Ahhhh. *Now* it's a good morning," he proclaimed, leaning back in his seat and relaxing.
Dane shook his head as he continued eating his breakfast. He swallowed and said, "Wes, you know that breakfast is the…"
"…Most ignorant waste of time imaginable," Wes cut in with a smile. "Yeah, you've made your feelings about breakfast quite clear. I, however, recognise the fact that I could get an hour more of sleep every day by eliminating it. We just have to agree to disagree."
"As long as by `disagree' you mean grumble but eat what's on your plate anyway, then yes," Dane replied pointedly, gesturing with his fork towards the cold food sitting in front of his partner. "And, speaking of disagreeing, what time did you end up coming to bed last night?" he queried as he reached for his coffee mug.
"Oh, not too late. I don't remember exactly."
"Not too late, hmmm? The last time I remember looking at the clock, it was 1 AM, and I was still alone," Dane commented, disapproval evident in his voice.
"Well, that's not late. And I already said I don't remember what time I came up," Wes replied defensively.
"One AM certainly *is* late. Do we have to go through this again?"
"We didn't *have* to go through it the first fifty times. So, no. We certainly don't have to do it a-gain," Wes dragged out the last word with a huff as he stood up quickly from the table, and walked over to up-end his untouched breakfast into the trash can.
"Weston! Just what…" Dane started as he rose heatedly from his chair.
"I said I wasn't hungry, and I'm certainly not in the mood for a family breakfast-slash-lecture now. Besides, it's for your own good. You'll be late for work if you insist on continuing this," Wes interrupted smugly as he put his plate in the dishwasher and snagged his keys off the counter. "I guess I'll shock everyone and show up early today." He quickly grabbed his drink off the table. "Have a good day at work," he tossed over his shoulder as an afterthought while he picked up his laptop from its position by the door and headed for his car. Some mornings, Dane was just impossible to deal with.
Wes arrived at his office and endured the cheerful barbs from his co- workers about his pre-8 AM arrival.
"Trouble in paradise?" Laura quipped as she made a point of staring at her watch and staggering up the aisle in a state of mock-shock.
"Something like that," Wes laughed. "If I had just remembered to keep `hockey fan' as my number one dating criteria, things'd go an awful lot smoother – that's for sure."
Wes' boss, Tom stepped around the corner. "Oh, that's right. A big game last night. Your team won, right?"
"Oh, my team *dominated* last night. It was awesome. I knew they could win four in a row. Unlike your lousy team that couldn't even win one this round," Wes gloated. Perhaps being at the office early wasn't that bad, after all.
People generally spent the early hours talking and wandering around anyway. That was one of the reasons Wes preferred to arrive later on when everyone was too preoccupied with their work to waste his time with idle office gossip. Recapping NHL playoffs, on the other hand, was the perfect way to start any day. If only Dane saw it that way.
"How late did that one game go the other night, anyway? The score didn't even make it into the newspaper," Tom asked leaning casually against the wall of Wes' cubicle.
"Oh, now *there* was a game. Well after two o'clock. It was almost two full games in one! Two full overtimes before the Oilers won it a couple minutes into the third! It's a good thing I don't live in an apartment anymore. I know my old neighbours used to just *hate* hockey season," Wes replied, stretching in his chair with a smile.
"No kidding! I bet all your neighbours bought earplugs. They should have billed you for them," Laura replied snarkily as she walked back to her desk laughing.
Wes chuckled, "I would have gladly bought them. As long as they bought me some in return, to muffle the barking dog and the screaming baby that used to wake me up every morning. They seriously got the better end of the deal. I always tried to keep my cheering to a minimum – except for playoffs."
The morning progressed rapidly, and stretched into afternoon, with Wes cheerily tearing through his work, and discussing the current hockey playoff situation with anyone and everyone who happened to bring it up. Considering the sour way the morning had started, the day turned out much brighter than he had anticipated.
When six o'clock rolled around, Wes heard the distinctive Austin Powers ring tone emanating from the cell phone in his laptop case. "Damn. Dane." He rubbed his hands over his eyes and debated ignoring the call altogether. He was really ready to put the morning behind them, but Dane just never seemed to be able to let things go. Knowing that would just prolong the inevitable, he finally reached down to grab his phone and turn on his earpiece. "Hello," he said cheerfully.
"Hi. Are you still at work?"
Dane didn't sound really upset. More like… surprised. "Hey," Wes laughed. "Where else would I be?" He wondered if it might actually be the first time that Dane finally saw things his way.
"Well, after you blew out of here so early this morning, I just expected you'd call it quits early tonight. How late are you planning on staying?" Dane queried.
"Alas, my work is never done," Wes over-dramatised. "I kind of lost track of time. There's always so much to do here."
"And it will still be there tomorrow. It's time for you to shut down and come home," Dane responded curtly.
There it was. The Tone. Wes had actually been thinking of logging off and putting his work behind him for the evening, but if that was what he had to look forward to at home… "I can't right now. I am in the middle of writing a huge new set of queries in one of my databases, and it's too complex to stop in the middle."
"How long ago did you start that?"
Wes could just picture the Look on Dane's face. "I don't remember. Awhile ago."
"You don't seem to remember a lot of things lately, Weston. I think perhaps you're working too hard and not getting enough…"
"Oh, I'm getting enough, all right," Wes snapped. "More than enough. You *don't* know my job. You have no idea how much I have to do all on my own here just to *try* to keep things running smoothly." He wondered just how many times they would have the same argument.
"Wes, don't snap at me. I don't deserve that," Dane reasoned calmly.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just… This is just… I need to get this finished. Okay?"
"You need to come home and rest. You can…"
"I'm not tired. This has nothing to do with being tired. You know I can't sleep eight hours anyway. Why does it always have to be about rest?"
Dane sighed aloud into the phone, "Because when you are totally exhausted, you are not very pleasant to be around, and it is not good for your health, either."
"Oh, so you're saying my bleeding ulcer is all my fault, now? That's just great. Well, I'll do you a favour, and not force you to be around me too much when I'm so unpleasant. I'll be home late. Don't wait up – you need your beauty sleep."
Too bad there wasn't a game on that night. Pizza and the game over at Boston's would be the perfect way to calm down and get his head on straight. He hated fighting with Dane. Dane was the love of his life; he couldn't imagine life without him, even though they didn't always see eye to eye on everything. It wasn't like he was asking for a lot. Just a little support for his miserable working conditions – and a little company during his favourite time of year. Dane was ruining the playoffs for him with his attitude. Why couldn't he understand that?
He hadn't really pushed the issue over the past few weeks when Dane declined to watch any of the games. The earlier round wasn't as important, anyway… He hadn't asked Dane to turn off The Amazing Race the night before and come in to watch the game with him. He merely asked him to curl up and watch the third period, after TAR was over. Wes would bet money that Dane didn't even realise how disappointed he was when his lover had opted to go up to bed instead. An hour. One measly hour. That was all it ended up taking. Was that so much to ask? Apparently, it was.
West coast games were always on late. That was just a fact of life for people living in the Eastern time zone. "I can sleep when I'm dead," Wes muttered as he flipped through his notes and tackled the job at hand in earnest.
Four hours later, the project was completed. Four hours and no more phone calls. Wes hadn't turned his cell phone back on, but he knew Dane would know better than to call back on that phone. So, that was how things were going to play out. Fine. The passage of time had calmed him down; it should have done the same for his partner. He packed up his laptop, turned off his desk lamp and walked toward the exit.
The entire drive home, Wes thought about what he was going to say. He certainly owed Dane an apology for hanging up on him, and also, most assuredly, for his sharp tongue. But in his mind, that was the extent of his culpability.
Wes pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel for a moment, gathering his strength. It had been a long day, and would probably be a longer night. He grabbed his laptop, shut the car door quietly, and made his way into the house.
Just inside the kitchen door, he set down his laptop and walked over to put his keys on the counter, like every other night. The house was quiet, but the light was still on over the kitchen table. Wes swallowed quickly when he saw a place setting still on the table along with a note:
`Spaghetti, bread and salad in the fridge. Love you.'
Well. That was definitely not the reception he had been expecting. Things might be okay, after all.
His stomach started to rumble while he was standing there. He hadn't eaten that day, and it was finally catching up with him. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out the leftovers – barely managing to microwave the spaghetti for the required 2 minutes before sitting down and practically inhaling his dinner. After a hasty effort to clean up after himself, he headed up to their bedroom. The nightlight was on in the hallway, aiding his walk up the stairs, but no other signs of life were present.
Silence and darkness greeted Wes as he walked into the bedroom. He made his way carefully across the room and over to the closet. He quietly opened the closet door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him before turning on the closet light. No sense in waking Dane up, if he was really sound asleep.
Wes stripped quickly, throwing his clothes into the small basket in the floor of the closet. He turned off the closet light and made his way, naked, to the bathroom where he again shut himself inside before turning on the light. He briefly contemplated waiting until morning to shower, so as not to awaken his sleeping partner; however, morning tended to go much better for him if he didn't have to take that extra time before breakfast. Sighing softly to himself, he turned on the spray, then turned to brush his teeth while the water warmed up.
That completed, he stepped into the shower, turned and leaned back into the relaxing spray. He lost himself in the sound and feel of the water. Eventually, he snapped back into the present, washed his hair, then soaped up, more than ready to finish his shower and go curl up in bed with his lover.
Shutting off the water, he reached for a towel and ran it through his hair. He made quick work of drying off, hung up his towel, and shut off the light. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Wes padded cautiously out to the bed and was just reaching for the covers when the light on the nightstand snapped on.
"Shit, Dane! Give me a heart attack, why don't you!" Wes exclaimed as he put a hand to his chest and sat on the bed.
"It's late. Did you get everything done that you needed to?"
"Yeah, I did. Sorry it took so long. I'm also…"
"Good," Dane interrupted. "You do work too hard. I thought we had agreed that you would at least *try* to cut back on the hours."
Wes crawled under the covers, turned to stare at Dane and responded, "I'm trying! No one else can do the work. You know that!"
Dane reached a hand out to brush the hair out of Wes' eyes. "I know, but we've been over this. It's not healthy."
"I'm fine. Really. Just tired."
"I know you are, after a late night followed by a long day at work. Get some sleep and we'll talk about things in the morning," Dane relented as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on his partner's lips. "We'll talk about everything in the morning."
Wes sighed, "Everything? There's not much to talk about. I'm sorry I hung up on you. You were right – you don't deserve that. I was just frustrated, that's all."
"Oh, I think there's a lot to talk about. Tomorrow," Dane responded as he leaned over to switch off the light.
"Great. In the morning. When you know I'm not a morning person. How is that fair??" Wes sat straight up in bed.
Dane paused, then turned back over. "Okay, you want to do this now? We'll do it now," he responded mildly as he moved to sit up in the bed to face his partner. "Let's start by talking about boundaries."
"Boundaries?" Wes was caught off-guard. "What about them?"
"You need them, for your health and your sanity, and I'm here to make sure you stay within them. And right now, babe, you're nowhere close," Dane softened his words by reaching out to rub the back of his hand softly across his lover's cheek.
Wes jerked his head back away from the touch. "Do you want me to lose my job?"
"I highly doubt you'd lose your job by cutting back your hours to match those of your boss and colleagues," Dane began.
"That's not the point! The point is that I have standards. A work ethic that I have for myself. Are you asking me to ignore that? Well, I can't!"
"Babe," Dane tried again. "This isn't just about work. It's about us, too. Us, and the lifestyle that we decided upon when we moved in together."
"Oh, so now you're going to make this about the discipline thing?"
"The `discipline thing', as you refer to it, is what we both agreed to. Remember?"
"Of course I remember! I just didn't think that you meant that *all* of your stupid rules would be set in stone. I thought we were going to at least discuss things," Wes exclaimed heatedly.
"We do discuss them," Dane agreed amicably. "But in the end, who has the final say?"
"You do. Of course," Wes answered mechanically.
Dane reached out to capture one of Wes' hands in his. "That is what we agreed to. Are you having second thoughts about our arrangement? Because that's what it seems like to me. Your blow-up this morning, coupled with your behaviour earlier this evening certainly crossed the line. You do see that, don't you?"
"I said I was sorry!"
"I know, and I appreciate that. But that doesn't fix everything, now, does it?"
Wes gaped at Dane, "You're acting like this was all *my* fault! Aren't you taking any of the responsibility?"
"Yes, actually, I do," Dane answered, regret evident in his voice. "It was my responsibility to head this off before things got out of hand, and I let you down. So, I'm sorry, too."
Wes was slightly mollified by Dane's words, and relaxed back into the pillows. "It's okay. We both screwed up."
"Yes, we did. And I'm going to make sure I don't screw up again, starting right now."
"What do you mean?" Wes sat back up again, looking warily at his lover.
"Boundaries. I mean boundaries, Wes," Dane stated, his eyes searching Wes' face for a reaction.
"Fine," Wes rolled his eyes and leaned back again. "I'll work fewer hours. Is that what you want?"
"That will be a good start," Dane nodded, "But there is more to it than that."
"More? Like what?!" The outrage was clear in Wes' voice.
"Like, more regular meals, earlier bedtime. That sort of thing." Dane began.
"Okay, okay. I get it. I won't throw out breakfast anymore," Wes cut in, his irritation becoming more and more evident.
"Good," Dane nodded agreeably. "Then we just have to deal with today, and we can work on the rest going forward."
"Deal with today?"
"Yes, deal with today."
Wes began fidgeting on the bed. "Are you talking about… You know…"
"Spanking you?" Dane finished the question for him.
Wes blushed and nodded but remained silent.
"No, not this time," Dane answered.
Relief washed over Wes, but it was short-lived, as Dane continued, "We'll start with restricted activity."
"Restricted activity??" Wes was in shock. "Like grounding? That's ridiculous! I'm too old to be grounded!"
"Wes… Babe, in this relationship, age has nothing to do with anything. We agreed that discipline would be a part of our relationship, and that's what this is. Starting tomorrow, you will have a good breakfast, be to work by nine, then back home by six- thirty for dinner. And, I think for the next week, we'll be doing without the hockey games, until you get more rested."
"What???" Wes was practically screaming as he bolted out of the bed. "Are you out of your mind, Dane??? That's insane! The conference finals will be practically over in a week. I am *not* missing them just because you think I need boundaries. That's ridiculous!"
"Calm down, Wes," Dane tried to make his voice as soothing as possible. "Calm down and talk to me without yelling."
Infuriated, Wes snapped, "Calm down?" You sit there and want to take away one of my favourite things in the world, and then you tell me to calm down??"
Dane got out of bed and walked around to face his partner. "That's my decision, Wes, and it's final. We agreed to this. You agreed to this. Now, it's getting late. Let's get some sleep, and we can talk more about the future tomorrow. Okay, babe?"
Wes just stood there, staring at the stranger in front of him.
"Wes? I don't like that look… What are you thinking?"
Wes looked Dane in the eye, unblinking, and responded tersely, "Right now? Right now, I'm thinking I want a divorce."