(Hockey Bxb) Whistle In The Wind -𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈-

╔══《”You never had a clue,》══╗
all the days that I spent loving you.”

       “Nothing, don’t even worry about it,” Lucien sputtered, rushing to get the words out while snatching his phone from Váli’s hands. Looking at the screen, he unlocked it before scanning over the messages quickly.

       Váli could only stare suspiciously at the noticeably tensed teen across from him. After a brief moment, he turned his phone off and placed it face down on the counter. Without a second of hesitation, Lucien painted a large smile on his face.

       His features shapeshifted right before Váli’s eyes, who could only marvel at the sudden switch in demeanor. Shuffling backwards, Lucien attempted to distract Vál from the awkward interaction and begin cooking again.

       Shaking his head, Váli sighed before following Lucien back toward the mixer.

       “If you say so,” he whispered, more to himself than to Lucien.

       “So, where did we end off?” Lucien chuckled, turning his attention back to the recipe book. For the next hour, the two boys mixed ingredients, baked the cookies, and ate too much raw dough.

       “You’re gonna get salmonella from that. You know?” Lucien warned Váli as he scooped a spoonful of dough into his open mouth.

       “Then why does it taste so good?” he replied with a big smile. “Plus,” he said in between bites, “It’s not the eggs that are bad for you. It’s the bacteria in the raw flour.”

       Leaning his weight on the counter, Lucien huffed. “Always one upping me on random knowledge.”

       “You know it.” Sighing, Lucien pulled himself upright, giving into temptation. Váli, who was loosely holding the spoon upright near his mouth watched as Luc carefully slipped the utensil right out of his hands.

       Too distracted, Váli’s loose grip allowed the taller to easily retrieve the spoon. Walking over to the bowl, Lucien scooped a large amount of dough on the silverware before popping it into his mouth like a lollipop.

       Regaining his composure, Váli sucked in a breath before attempting to think of a sly remark. “So you don’t like the germs in the raw dough but you’re fine with putting my spoon in your mouth?”

       Shrugging his shoulders, Lucien struggled to swallow the large bite. Eventually, Váli watched Luc finally swallow, gulping comically loud.

       Cringing, Lucien muttered, “That was kinda gross.”

       “Too sweet?”

       “Too sweet.”

       Bending over to laugh, Váli found Lucien’s taste funny. “You have the palette of an old man. You probably like black coffee, or something!”

       “What’s wrong with black coffee?” Lucien pouted, placing the spoon in the sink.

       “I knew it! What else; licorice?”

       “Okay, no. I have taste,” Lucien replied, offended Váli went as far to assume he liked that flavor.

       “Okay, okay!” Váli puffed, “I’ll stop.” Lucien didn’t reply, looking at Vál with an expression of uncertainty. Every couple of seconds, Vál would let out a single laugh, unable to control the need.

       With each burst, Lucien’s tight expression slowly loosened until he found himself uncontrollably smiling. Upon noticing, he covered his mouth with his hand, turning his back to Váli. Beginning to clean up, Lucien shuffled about the kitchen.

       “This batch is done in a minute,” Váli remarked, staring at the oven.

       “Do you mind taking them out when they’re done?” Lucien asked, standing over the sink, scrubbing dishes.

       “For sure,” Váli replied, grabbing the oven square on top of the stove. Preparing himself, he watched the timer tick down each second until finally, it reached zero and began beeping.

       Opening it, he swiftly reached to pull the large cooking sheet out. Perfectly circled cookies rested on the metal, the smell immediately wafting through the room. Pulling it out, Váli underestimated the size of the sheet.

       With his hand not in the exact center, the off balance metal tilted as he hovered it over the counter. In a single motion, the hot steel tilted so extremely that it fell back against his wrist, unprotected from the oven mitt. Dropping the pan, Váli screeched in pain.

       Instantly looking up, Lucien darted to the blond. At that moment, Váli held his wrist tight to his chest, hunching over in pain. Standing across from him, Lucien slowly but strongly forced the limb out so he could see it.

       One look was enough for Lucien to see the deep red spot. Dragging his arm to the sink, Lucien quickly began running it under ice cold water. The sensation resulted in instant relief, Váli’s tense body relaxing in Lucien’s grip.

       After a straight minute of silence from both boys, and continuous cold water, Lucien turned the sink off. Crumpling down on the floor, Váli layed there, defeated. It was obvious from the redness and puffiness that the burn was nasty.

       Váli was quiet, staring at the red patch. “We–we need to do something,” Lucien panicked, “Like bandaging it, or something.”

       Dragging Váli to the nearest bathroom, he rummaged around for a minute before pulling out a white rectangular box with a red plus on the front. Popping the lid off, he grabbed Neosporin and a roll of gauze.

       Lightly applying the cream, Vális’ head darted to look at Lucien. “Does that feel better,” Lucien laughed, noting Vális’ obvious reaction to the paste being applied to the burn. Nodding slowly, the blond watched intently as Lucien delicately wrapped his wrist.

       Standing up, Luc admired his work with his hands on his hips. “All better,” he beamed. Vál stood up from the toilet, now noticing how crammed the two teens were in the small bathroom.

       In the distance, a ringing could be heard from the direction of the kitchen. Staring at each other, Luc muttered, “the cookies,” before both boys were running out of the bathroom.

       Immediately, smoke infiltrated their lungs, causing Váli to start coughing. Running to turn the oven off, Lucien flung the door open to look inside.

       “I thought I took them out,” Váli croaked in confusion.

       “There were two batches in at once,” Lucien corrected, pulling out a tray of blackened cookies. The smell of burntness was so strong Váli had to cover his face with his hand.

       Pounding footsteps ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. “What the hell happened?” Lucien’s angry mom roared.

       “We just forgot about a batch of cookies in the oven, don’t worry,” Lucien tried to reassure his mom. “I turned the oven off, the smoke should clear.”

       Huffing, she looked around at the hazy room. “Start opening windows, we need to air this place out before your father gets home.” Nodding, Lucien bolted off, opening the windows one by one.

       After a couple minutes, the smoke defused outside enough for Váli to remove his hand and look around. “Sorry for spooking you,” Lucien chuckled sheepishly to Váli.

       “It’s fine,” he attempted to joke, “I just wasn’t expecting the house to almost burn down.”

       “Yeah me neither.” Both boys fell into silence, unsure how to proceed. “How about this,” Luc started, “We put the uncooked dough in the fridge, and make that batch some other time this week.”

       Satisfied with that idea, Váli asserted, “That sounds good.”

       Reaching to grab his phone, Lucien looked past his notifications and to the time instead. “Good timing, Aksels practice ends in five minutes.”

       “I should probably head home then,” Váli mumbled, his gaze locked onto the wooden floor.

       “I’ll watch you walk out, that way no creeps kidnap you,” Luc joked, motioning him over to the front door. Leaning down to slip on his sneakers, Váli stood up and reached for the handle.

       Furrowing his brows, Váli stared at the complex array of locks lined up one after the other on the door. Before he could turn around and ask for help, Lucien reached over his shoulder and began unlocking each one.

       Frozen in place, Váli could only wait in silence. Holding his breath, Váli heard the hammering of his heart in his ears. The noise was so loud it seemed to echo throughout his entire body, his pulse quickening.

       After a couple painfully long seconds, the last lock clicked out of place, and the door swung open. “Sorry about that, my parents are really superstitious about stuff like that,” he said next to Vális’ left ear. The breeze of his breath tickled the sensitive skin, and Váli found himself shivering, goosebumps popping up on his arms.

       “Better safe than sorry,” he humored before stepping out onto the concrete steps.

       “I suppose,” Lucien shrugged, walking up to lean against the doorframe. He watched with an attentive expression on his face. With each step, Váli’s hips swayed slightly. Woah look at his–

       Váli suddenly turned around, forcing Lucien to look up towards his face. “Thanks for inviting me.”

       “You’re always welcome.”

       “See you later this week?”

       “See you later this week.”

       With a small but bright smile, Váli hopped down the last step before skipping down the driveway and out to the sidewalk. Lucien watched from the doorway until he lost sight of him. Only then did he step back and close the door.

       Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he opened it before swiping down to his notifications tab. Carefully reading them out, he reached the one he was dreading. Feeling his heart sink to his stomach he read the text.

       814-200-9256: im back in pennsylvania for a month. we should make plans

       Shutting off his phone, Lucien didn’t even need to look up the number to know who sent the text. The digits were engraved in his brain like tattooed ink. He couldn’t forget them even if he tried, and boy did he try.

       Rushing up to his room, he threw himself on his bed. He didn’t cry, because crying meant he was weak. Instead he laid there emotionless. Feeling empty, he opened his phone once more, this time clicking the text so it would open the imessage app.

       He didn’t bother responding, knowing it didn’t matter since his read receipts were on, and he would know Luc had seen the message regardless. Scrolling up, Lucien got lost in the one sided conversation the unsaved number had with himself.

       Lucien never responded, he wasn’t strong enough to.

       814-200-9256: 2/24/23 why r u avoiding me?? ur being dramatic

       Flipping his phone face down, Lucien closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Almost like she could tell something was wrong, Lucs mom walked in at that moment.

       “Can you please clean up downstai–Whats wrong?” she immediately paused. There were no physical signs that Lucien was upset; he wasn’t crying nor was his expression gloomy. However, it took only one glance from his mother for her to determine that something was wrong,

       She had enough experience to notice the subtleties in his behavior: his blank expression, his stiff posture, and most obviously, the underlying emotion of guilt that clouded his eyes. Instead of the bright amber Lucien’s mother saw when she too looked in a mirror, she currently saw a muddy brown.

       He was sitting over his blankets, not bothering to climb under the thick sheet despite the chilling weather outside. Slowly approaching, Lucs mother sat down near the top, right beside her son. Without any words spoken, she reached over and gently caressed his hair.

       The curls caught in her fingers, but instead of ripping through the knots, she gently combed through them. Over time, the waves became more and more frizzy the more times she pulled the hairs apart.

       At that moment, Lucien found that he didn’t mind the poofiness, for the gentle touch soothed his body and mind. Leaning into her hand, the tired teen rested his head against his moms shoulder.

       Moving to rub his back, she dragged her fingernails gently over his t-shirt in a way she knew he liked. After a minute of solid silence, she carefully pulled her hand away before standing up.

       With the loss of his mothers support, Lucien flopped down on his bed. His eyes were closed, and his mouth opened slightly, his breathing growing heavier the more asleep he became.

       On her way out the door, Lucien’s mother turned the lights out before looking at her son once more. She smiled, full of love. Quietly closing the door behind her, she headed down the stairs to begin cleaning up the kitchen.

       As she passed the foyer, the clinking of locks caused her to turn toward the front door. Shuffling inside holding a briefcase and simultaneously taking off his shoes, entered a man in his early forties. His salt and pepper hair was thickly swooped off his forehead in a pile on top of his head.

       “Hi honey,” he said, reaching for his wife–pulling her into a side hug.

       “How was work?” she asked.

       Pecking her check, he rested his freshly shaved face against her skin for a moment before answering, “Stressful, as always. How’s Luc?” he asked, looking around for his son.

       “He’s taking a nap right now…” she hesitated, “He had a friend over earlier. Váli.”

       “You finally got to meet him!” He beamed, standing up straight to take his jacket off.

       “Yes… He’s a very kind boy, looks identical to Aksel.”

       “Is he just tired, then?”

       “I’m not sure… Something upset him.”

       “You don’t think…”

       “I hope not,” she smiled with tightened lips. “Come on, let’s crack open a bottle of wine,” she patted his chest before skipping back to the kitchen.

       Remaining still in the doorway, Lucien’s dad looked up the stairs in the direction of his son–a frown taking over his handsome face. I wonder…

Question of the chapter: Have you ever been seriously injured?

The phone number is not actually anybody’s, please do not call it.

╚══《Word count- 2,273》══╝

══https://open.spotify.com/track/0srUf03MHZ4cbOO4o2ydDu══