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1 Ice
Teemu’s sitting there, waiting, in a vinyl-sticky hospital chair, when Paul finally opens his eyes again. He watches while Paulie orients himself, working through figuring out where he is and then grimacing, briefly, probably getting a delayed hit of pain while his drip adjusts to him being awake. Teemu only catches the expression because he’s spent so much time observing Paul. The harsh fluorescents buzzing overhead certainly don't do either of them any favors.
Then, because Paul doesn’t believe in hiding from things, Teemu tells him, “You caused quite a stir, tonight.” Boy, did he, with what he did to the rink.
That gets a more obvious grimace - Paul hates people taking an interest in him for anything that isn’t strictly hockey related, but he's not getting any kind of choice this time.
And Teemu knows his role in this, to joke, “You really do have your own, personal A/C system,” one he's been making ever since he came out to Anaheim and noticed Paul never seemed to mind the heat. To have it turn out to be true, but not in a way he ever would have expected…well, he doesn’t exactly know what to do with that. Well, aside from calling it cool.
Paul attempt shaking his head, breaks it off as a bad job - headache, reporting for duty - and says, "Not exactly," forming each word carefully and slowly.
Teemu waits - he wants to touch, always wants to touch, but Paul's chary of it, even at the best of times, and Teemu can't even begin to predict how he'd take it now.
Anyway, he's saying, quiet and careful, but still precise, "Yes, it keeps me cool...but that's a side-effect."
"Then, what's it for? I mean, the instant ice age you set off at the rink was cool and all, but...not exactly useful."
Paul shrugs one careful shoulder and says, "It mostly isn't useful, except for always having good ice to skate on."
And that's about when one of the beeping pieces of equipment Paul's attached to starts sounding an alarm, summoning a nurse in seconds. When she checks the machine's display, she does an obvious double-take, then turns to Paul, says, "Mr. Kariya, I'm going to touch your forehead," and places the back of one careful hand against Paul's left temple. She's frowning when she pulls it away.
And Teemu can read the play on that one: based on his temperature, she can't figure out how he isn't a Paulie-sicle; she clearly didn't get the memo about Paul being an ice-making machine.
Which means he gets to say, perfectly straight-faced, "We carry the rink with us, everywhere," and watch Paul's face do the thing where he isn't groaning, but he wants to be.
Paul says, "Teemu," terribly long-suffering, and that's when Teemu knows for sure that they'll be okay, even if Paul isn't for a while. And even if it might be even longer before Teemu forgets what Paul looked like, lying still on the ice, with quickly growing miniature glaciers radiating out from his body, destroying the game ice and getting in the way of the medical staff. He thinks it would've served them right if they hadn't been able to move Paul before the glaciers had a go at the boards.
2 Magnetism
Paul's attracted to Teemu the first time he sets eyes on him properly, across the table in a restaurant at the All-Star Game. There's a lot to like there: smiling eyes, hair that wants to give him some sort of bird's crest or comb, his easy manners, and not least his actual smile, that left Paul feeling like it was tucking him away inside a pocket-universe for two. Add in his hockey-fit body, and his hockey, itself, which is just fucking sexy, and, well, Paul's a goner the moment he gets confirmation that the inside of the package is just as appealing as the outside.
He's even thinking about an ASG hook-up, which is not the kind of thing he ever allows himself to do, when he gets it brought home to him that Teemu makes everyone feel that kind of special.
He's watching Teemu sign autographs from a couple tables down the row they have all the guys sitting behind - and it's nice, at first. Because Teemu's good with the kids, and nice with the older fans, basically everything Paul isn't most of the time. But it doesn't really hit him until he happens to look over and see Teemu interacting with a girl, probably about their age, who's just about lighting up from the way Teemu's smiling at her.
He isn't even turning it up for her, just smiling his ordinary, real smile, and probably saying something nice.
After that, Paul shelves the idea, because Teemu's awesome, but it's just as clear that Paul's not special, not like that. Teemu flirts with everybody a little, makes everybody feel special, has the kind of casual sex that Paul has never understood the appeal of - and does it all without any more fuss than necessary. It's both pleasure and pain to observe from the sidelines.
So he shelves the idea through injuries and new teams and right on into retirement and seclusion - right up until Teemu shows up on his doorstep to ask him about attending his retirement ceremony, and Paul says, "no."
And Teemu says, "You're the only person I've ever met who could resist me."
"Well, you are a force of nature," Paul tells him, tartly, because he decided that shortly into their acquaintance.
"You knew?" Teemu asks.
"It's kind of obvious, if you actually pay attention."
"But nobody still believes in the old spirits.," Teemu says, a look of wonder spreading across his face.
"...like, elves," Paul says, just to make sure, because he's read those books and this could totally be his head talking.
"I'm not, but, yes," Teemu tells him.
Paul still doesn't know what to do with that except say, "I think this one needs a beer. Or three. So, come on." And drag Teemu in to sit at his kitchen table and explain it all properly. Because, what the fuck, he's been friends with a not-elf for nearly two decades and he's only just finding out now?
3 Connection
The first time he hears the voice, Teemu's in primary school. It's the middle of quiet reading time, and he's chosen a book about a boy who wants to play hockey. He's read it before, but he likes the ending so much he keeps choosing it. So, there he is, sitting in a beam of sunlight, reading silently to himself.
And then this voice, which is in his head, it seems, says quietly, read me a story?
He doesn't jump straight out of his chair, though it's a near thing. And he only doesn't because the last book his teacher read to the class was about a little boy who lived in the city and a little girl who lived in the country who thought they each had an imaginary best friend they talked to all the time. And it turned out that actually, both of them were real. Because they had a soul-connection.
So he settles himself, and says okay, and he reads, thinking the words and pictures at the voice as clearly as he can. There's the bit about how Paavo finally gets skates, and then the part where he learns to use his edges, and then the whole long quest to gather all the other necessary equipment, and finally the first time he can join the other kids playing on the pond. It's a really good story - and the end, where they all play a game together is just exactly right. By that point, he's not sure the voice is still listening. But then it says Thank you. My mommy says you always have to say that. And that's how he meets Paul for the first time, even if they won't meet in person for over a decade.
4 Curses
"So, this season is cursed," Teemu says, from Paul's couch, where he's got his knee carefully elevated and iced.
"You think," Paul says, from where he's lying on the floor. Because it's a pretty obvious conclusion, when you consider both of their injuries in light of what they were planning when they signed with the Avs.
"What do you think - a binding on our contracts, or...?" And Paul can tell what he's thinking, something more personal, directed at them when they didn't come back to Anaheim.
"Someone in the org was mad enough to go rogue?" Paul says it for both of them.
Teemu nods and says, "We can hope it was a one and done, at least - I mean, get us hurt, mess up our seasons, that's a lot of power to spend to begin with."
"So there's nothing to break, you think?" Paul says, and when Teemu nods, adds, "I can't say I mind not having to find a curse-breaker up to the job."
And that makes Teemu snort and say, "You still better go get checked out by the team wizard. It's not like it couldn't still be breaking down and doing shit." And he doesn't exactly sound gleeful, but just like he's maybe enjoying Paul's anticipatory dread a little. Possibly the worst part about being injured, aside from the injury itself and not being able to play hockey, is the whole constant going to doctors thing.
"I hate you," is the only response that deserves, though both he and Teemu know exactly how untrue it is. Sometimes it just needs to be said. And there's no point in hating the magic, when it's just doing what it was told to.
"So, you'll go in tomorrow," Teemu prompts, because he's terrible and also Paul's favorite person in the world.
"Yes," he agrees, and knows Teemu hears everything he means by it.