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#calpal irwin
calpalirwin · 10 months
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Ice Breaker
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Summary: Thea had her reasoning as to why she didn’t like hockey players. Until Calum makes her re-evaluate her opinion.
Word Count: 6.1k
And away, and away we go!
__
Thea didn’t mind the frigid air of the ice skating rink. What she did mind was the group of hockey players already on the bleachers, their gear scattered around as they laced up.
Thea hated hockey season. She hated how their brutish nature of yelling and slamming into each other was a constant cause of distraction. Hated the smell of sweat that always clung to their gear and their bodies, as if they had no idea how to operate a washing machine or a shower. And she hated their sense of entitlement. Not to the rink— no, that was rightfully theirs— but their sense of entitlement to her. As if she was there merely for their sake and desires.
Coach Anderson had always held a zero tolerance for disrespect or harassment, to the point of banning players from his team. But even the strictest of policies hadn’t been enough to deter the most determined.
She kept her face neutral of any contempt or disdain as she staked her claim at the bottom of the bleachers.
“Excuse me, miss?” one of the men called out to her. “Were you planning on using the rink?”
Thea clicked her tongue in her cheek as she looked over at the man. Dark brown curls, wild and loose framed his face, and equally dark brown eyes studied her closely. His black jersey lay slung over his broad shoulders. “No,” she smiled sweetly at him. “I just came to the ice rink with a bag of gear to sit here for three hours.”
The man laughed. “Real funny, princess. But I got the schedule from the coach right here in my bag. And I hate to break it to you, but this is our practice time for the next eight months.”
“Four months,” Thea corrected. “Your season is four months.”
“For the regular season. But we’re in training for the first two months. Then the actual season. And then playoffs which are an extra two months. And that, princess, is how to count to eight,” the man clarified.
“So I’ll be rid of you in six,” she grinned. “I shall count the days!”
The man laughed again. “Tell you what, princess. Since you’re already here, and we would hate to see you freeze waiting on us, I’ll talk to the coach, and see if we can’t work something out for today.”
“Or I can talk to the coach myself. See if I can’t work something out for today. Wouldn’t want you boys to freeze or anything.” Her voice was rich with sweet sarcasm.
The man scoffed, sweeping a large hand in the direction of the hallway that led to the offices. “Be my guest, princess. Fair warning through, Coach Anderson can be a bit of a hardass.”
“Ooo, I’d be careful how you refer to your coach,” Thea winced.
“As would I,” Coach Anderson said as he walked into view, his co and assistant coaches a step behind. “Thea, sweetheart, how are you?” he asked with a warmth that had his team looking at each other in surprise.
“I’m good,” she smiled, giving the coach a hug hello. “Although there appears to be an issue with your scheduling. You double booked yourself.”
Coach Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I always want to think you end at three, not start at three.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you do this on purpose as a chance to see me.”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” Coach Anderson said with a laugh. “I’ll look everything over and find a work around. As for today… Peter, let’s get set up on half the rink. We’ll let Thea use the other half.”
Peter Steele, the assistant coach nodded once before jogging off.
Coach Anderson clapped his hands together. “Alright! Thea, have you met the team?”
“Briefly,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the twelve men who sat on the bleachers, still watching the interaction between the head coach and the figure skater with both intrigue and shock.
“Thea, this is the team. First line I have Hood, Irwin, and Hemmings as my forwards. Fleming and DeLuca are the defensemen. And then Clifford’s goalie.”
Each man waved a hand in greeting, first the dark haired man whom she had spoken with, a man with light brown curls, two blondes, another brunette, and another blonde.
Coach Anderson then prattled off the names of his second line, but Thea kept her focus on Hood and the arrogance that radiated off him as he stared blankly back at her. “And I’m still working on a practice schedule for the third and fourth lines. Gentlemen, this is Thea Anderson, my daughter.”
Eleven men coughed uncomfortably. The twelfth— Hood— only widened his eyes, the only indication he gave of the news shocking him. “I apologize for the overlap of schedules and will work on getting that fixed. However, I think we’ve wasted enough time, so let’s get to it.”
Thea paid them no mind as they all headed out on the ice. As she readied herself, she let the sounds of the sticks hitting ice, the yells and grunts of the players, and the shouted commands and whistles of the coaches all fade to a nonexistent hum.
By the time her skates were laced and she made her way to the ice, her focus was solely on her own movements: each push off, jump, spin, and landing. Flawless and graceful execution. No room for error.
For the twelve hockey players and three coaches, playing with only half a rink was a challenge, given the less than ideal space. Cramped, but not impossibly so.
Hood, in a state of hypervigilance, saw how Thea pushed herself into a backwards skate with her right foot. He also saw the left defender shoot the puck, the trajectory destined to cross the figure skater’s path. Hood rushed towards it.
Thea noticed the black blur of the puck hurtling towards that red center line, saw its trajectory same as Hood, and adjusted, jumping as Hood continued to race towards her to stop the puck.
Thea completed her spin as Hood slid to a halt, his skates showering her in sparks of shaved ice, and he sent the puck flying across the rink towards his left forward. Breathless, and a little pleased he’d managed to pull that off without colliding with Thea or even crossing the center line, he shot a grin at her. “Pretty jump there, princess,” he complimented.
She scoffed at him, brushing the shards of ice off her skirt. “And I suppose I should thank you for saving me from nothing?”
“That puck would have tripped you if I hadn’t stopped it,” he pointed out.
“No it wouldn't because unlike you, I’m aware of my space.”
Hood glanced down at the red center line, the toe of his skate right along the edge on his side. “As am I,” he said smugly.
“You’re a brute,” she hissed.
“If it so pleases, Your Highness,” he grinned like the fool he was, before he sketched a bow that even Thea had to admit was rather graceful despite his size and gear.
“Hood!” Coach Anderson barked with a sharp look at both his player and his daughter.
Hood pushed himself backward, still bowing. Thea scowled at the theatrics, at the smug look on his face, as he skated away and turned his attention back on his teammates and that infernal black puck.
~~~
The following day when Thea walked into the arena, the men that made up her father’s team were already out on the ice.
She scowled as she stalked over to the bleachers and laced up. If Coach Anderson was so insistent on sharing the ice, then he could have the burden of making sure his players stayed out of her way.
“Thea, sweetheart!” her father greeted, skating towards the edge of the rink closest to her.
“I thought you fixed the schedule.”
“I did!” the man beamed. “We have…” he glanced over at the clock on the wall, “a half hour left. They’re gonna start their cool down exercises so we won’t have any pucks flying around. It was the best solution I could come up with.”
“Mmm, how thoughtful…”
“Thea…” Coach Anderson said in a low warning.
“It’s not you I have the problem with, Dad. It’s them,” she clarified with a pointed glance at the team.
“They haven’t done anything to you, have they?”
“Not them specifically.”
Coach Anderson’s jaw tightened. “I traded that entire part of the roster, and made it very clear to this team that I won’t tolerate any indication of disrespect or harassment.”
“I know. And I hope you know I appreciate the lengths you have gone through for my sake. But they view kindness as a weakness, so it’s easier if I’m a bitch from the start.”
Coach Anderson rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Your kindness is your greatest strength, don’t let anybody make you feel that it’s not.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course. Now, feel like showing these men what you’re capable of?”
“Suicides? Let them think they have a chance, at least?”
The father and daughter shared a grin, as Coach Anderson blew his whistle. “Line up!” was the barked command.
The twelve men scurried to line up along one of the goal lines waiting for the next order. They kept their focus straight ahead even as Thea joined them in the line up. “Alright, gentlemen. We had a good practice, so I’m gonna give you the opportunity to earn a little reward here. One suicide across the rink.”
The men blinked in confusion. “That’s all, Coach?” one of them asked.
“That’s all,” Coach Anderson nodded. “One suicide stands between you and an early end to practice. However, if Thea finishes before you, you all will be doing suicides until practice officially ends.”
One of the players raised their hand.
“Yes, Hood?”
“To clarify, does place matter? So as long as Thea doesn’t finish first, we win? Or does she have to finish thirteenth for us to win?”
“You’re a team, Hood. If one member finishes before Thea, you all win. That’s what? A ninety-two percent chance at success? Sounds more than fair, right?”
“Yes Coach!” was the uniform response.
“Full rink. On my mark. Ready. Set.” Coach Anderson blew the whistle.
The players were quick to fly back and forth across the ice, gaining the lead early. Thea skated towards the end of the pack, pacing herself, playing the long game.
By the center line, the players started to fall on the return, as Thea made her way to the middle of the pack, still keeping a comfortable pace.
The men ahead of her pushed themselves harder to keep their lead as they skated for the goal line.
“Dig deep!” was the encouraged shout from the coaches as they hit the goal line, and skated back across the rink.
Thea passed more of them as they reached the second blue line. And as she headed out for the last round of goal line to goal line, only Hemmings, Hood, and Irwin were ahead of her.
Despite their longer strides, Thea passed Hemmings by the center line, and then Irwin as she hit the goal line. Hood was only a few feet away, passing the blue line.
All that lay between Hood and victory was a clean shot across the rink. He had a small but decent lead, and a longer stride.
Thea lengthened her own stride, feeling the stretch in her leg muscles. By the center line she was half a step behind.
Hood grit his teeth, and put as much speed in his strides as he could, already having maxed out how far he could extend his legs between each stride.
The toes of their skate hit the final goal line at the same time.
Thea nodded at Hood, conceding graciously. She opened her mouth to extend her congratulations, but Coach Anderson spoke up first. “Good effort, but not quite good enough. Line up!”
“Coach,” Hood replied, his voice coming out as heavy as his breathing. “With all due respect, you said Thea had to finish first. She didn’t. We both did.”
Coach Anderson’s eyes darkened, ready to tear his player apart for daring to question orders.
“Dad,” Thea interjected. “He’s right. You were very clear that I had to make it to the line first. And I didn’t. So unless Hood is up for a tie-breaker, your team’s free to go.”
“What kind of tie breaker do you have in mind?” Hood asked, intrigued.
“3 laps around the rink. If we tie, you lose. If I win, you lose.”
“You got yourself a deal,” Hood agreed, offering her his hand.
She shook it, sealing the bet.
“Take your marks then,” Coach Anderson relented. “But, Hood, if Thea wins, I’m adding an extra 5 minutes for your impertinence.”
“Understood, Coach.” Then he focused those intense brown eyes on Thea. “Am I allowed to shed some gear to make the odds more even?”
“You could skate in your underwear for all I care, Hood. I could even skate backwards and blindfolded, you’re still going to lose.”
“That’s a bold statement. Hope you can back it up,” he told her as he shucked his helmet, gloves, and jersey, discarding them on the lip of the wall surrounding the rink. “And it’s Calum.”
“I didn’t ask.”
When Coach Anderson blew the whistle, Calum skated like his life depended on it. Not only did he want to prove her words wrong, he wanted to pull through for his team. Ten minutes of suicides— fifteen in Calum’s case— would be an excruciating end to practice. Then there was the scathing lecture the team would receive about their lack of discipline for failure, and the personal one-on-one reaming Calum would get afterward for his attitude.
But a victory… A victory might earn him only a stern reminder at most. And the gratitude of his team.
While Calum had more reasons to win than he could count, Thea had zero. It didn’t matter to her whether or not she won. No threat of punishment loomed over her head as she and Calum raced around the rink. Just the pride that came with putting hockey players in their place. To show that she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.
Every part of Calum was on fire as he fought to at least keep pace with Thea as they entered the final lap. Calum raced down the straightaway letting his speed carry him through the turn, using the chance to catch his breath, determined to hit the last straightaway with everything he had. His lungs burned. Sweat trickled down his spine. Even though a tie would mean he lost, it was still better than a complete blow out.
Thea pulled ahead as they hit the last turn, and he mentally braced for the inevitable defeat. But as she came out of the turn, Thea slowed. At first Calum assumed it was so she could stop just over the line, and she had somehow misjudged the distance as he went past her, crossing first. But the soft smile she flashed his way told him that she had let him win. But what for? “Good race,” she continued to smile, offering out her hand.
He didn’t dare question her reasoning for throwing the race in his favor now. He engulfed her hand in his larger one. “Good race.”
“Alright,” Coach Anderson said, a slight edge of confusion in his tone. “Hit the showers and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Hood, hang back a second, please.”
Calum squared his shoulders. While he knew he should consider himself lucky, and was indeed grateful to Thea for saving him and his team a grueling five extra minutes of practice, he hoped whatever Coach Anderson wanted to discuss didn’t include being benched to curb Hood’s impertinence. “Yes, Coach?” he replied once the rest of the team made their swift exit towards the locker rooms. None wanted to be privy to whatever hell Coach Anderson had planned.
Even Thea had managed to make herself disappear out of immediate earshot as she started to practice a series of jumps on the other side of the rink.
“Good effort out there today.”
“T-thank you, Coach,” Calum faltered over his words. This was so far from how he imagined this conversation happening.
“But if you ever have the boldness to act disrespectful in regards to me, the other coaches, or any of our judgments again, your time on this team will be incredibly short-lived.”
“Understood, Coach,” Calum nodded.
Coach Anderson clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “And at some point I would thank Thea. Rightfully so, she’s not overly friendly toward hockey players. And she wasn’t being overly confident about being able to outskate you blindfolded and backwards. I’ve seen her do it before. So the fact that she threw both races in your favor is beyond me. Now, hit the showers and get out of here.”
“Yes, Coach. And thank you.”
Calum wasted no time in heading for the locker room, in the event Coach Anderson changed his mind.
“Why did you let them win?” Coach Anderson asked as soon as Calum had left, and Thea skated back towards her father.
She skidded to a halt in front of the coach. “Same reason you let him off easy. Kindness is our greatest strength, isn’t it?”
Coach Anderson shook his head, chuckling lightly. “That it is. But I didn’t expect you to be so quick to set aside your reservations.”
“I’m not. I’m merely giving them a clean slate to work on. And there’s a fine line between being confident and being cocky,” she began to skate around the coach in a lazy loop as she elaborated further. “They’re confident. As they should be, they have all the markings of being great players. I assume you saw as much because they’re on your team. But I also know you don’t put players on your team solely because they’re good at hockey. I don’t know your team enough to pass my own judgment on them, so I’m trusting yours. I’m willing to see in them what you see in them, until proven otherwise.”
“I wonder who you learned such wisdom from.”
“Mom,” Thea laughed, jumping into a perfect spin. “Plus, your team was at a disadvantage. You had been running them ragged for who knows how long, whereas I just got here, fully energized. A few of them might have genuinely beaten me in the first run if it had been the beginning of their practice. If I want to win, I want it to be because I’m truly better.”
“Fair enough. So you think you can manage to share a half hour with them?”
“Yeah I think that’ll be fine,” she smiled.
Coach Anderson bid his daughter farewell, and Thea returned to running through her practice routine. The team slowly filtered out of the locker room, offering her a friendly wave or a shout of thanks on their way out the door. And while she acknowledged them in return, neither her nor the players engaged in further interaction. Not until Calum finally trudged out, his bag slung over one shoulder, and his skates slung over the other.
He dropped both of them at his feet, mindful to not damage his skates. Then he leaned against the wall of the rink dividing him from her. “You let me win. Why?”
“It wasn’t a fair match. You had already had your practice. I was just beginning mine.”
“All the more reason you should have mopped the floor with us. You had the upper hand, and you don’t like us. So to give up an easy win like that…”
“If I win, I want it to be because I’m truly better. Not because you’re already fatigued. And I never said I didn’t like you guys.”
“You didn’t have to. Your attitude towards us speaks for itself.”
“Not being fond of hockey players doesn’t equate to me outright disliking them.”
“Fair enough. I wouldn’t be fond of hockey players either. I’ve heard some of us are brutes.” He flashed her a knowing grin.
“As long as you’re aware you’re a brute,” she responded airly.
Calum laughed. “Well, I prefer to earn my victories too. So any time you want that rematch…”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to find each other.”
“See ya tomorrow, princess.”
“Rest up, brute.”
~~~
The next few weeks, Thea set aside her reservations as she utilized the hockey team’s cool down exercises as her own warm up.
She learned a lot about the team in daily half hour increments. Most of them had girlfriends. They all enjoyed a drink or two, except Ashton who was sober and more than happy to play designated driver. All twelve players that made up Coach Anderson’s first and second string had almost always played together on the same team, and as a result were all really decent friends, but the bond that the first string players had was a lot stronger than the bond the second string players shared.
In return, they tried to learn what they could about their honorary thirteenth, but Thea offered them as little information as she could. Opening herself up meant dealing with their questions, or worse. From what they were able to gather, they could reasonably assume that Thea practiced daily, but only worked with her coach during competition season, and that she was closest in age to Luke.
Usually, Calum hated how much his life was on display. Hated the unfair power dynamic it created with someone knowing so much while he knew so little in return. But with Thea, he found himself enthralled by it. He knew what he needed: that she was elegance and grace incarnated, and that she was more disciplined than any one he’d ever encountered before. As far as he was concerned, everything else was a matter of details. And he was certain that details would only enhance the big picture that was Thea Anderson, and he didn’t need to be more distracted by her presence than he already was.
As training came to a close in preparation for the opening season, Coach Anderson gathered his men at the end of one of the practices. “Gentlemen. Our first game of the season is tomorrow, so we won’t have practice. However, you need to be here at five. You don’t want to know what happens if you’re late. Is that understood?”
“Yes Coach!”
“Dismissed. Thea?”
“I’ll keep an eye on the time so I don’t conflict with your game, I know,” she told him.
“Thank you, but that’s not what I want to discuss.”
“Oh?”
“The team we’re playing tomorrow… As much as you are welcome to the rink for your practice, and as much as I would enjoy having you with us for our first game… Estrada is on the other team’s roster.”
Thea paled. “Oh…”
“So I understand if you need to be elsewhere.”
“No.” Thea shook her head and drew up her body as tall as she could. “No. He took enough. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he took this away from me, too.”
Coach Anderson nodded once in understanding. They both knew Thea could face whatever bullshit Donovan Estrada threw her way. She’d done it once before.
~~~
The following afternoon, Thea was surprised at how off she felt as she began her practice. She chalked it up to nerves about potentially running into Donovan, but when Calum walked in fifteen minutes early, she was shocked to realize it wasn’t nerves about the game at all.
She had become used to starting her practice as they ended theirs. Used to their loud laughs coming out of the locker room, and their friendly waves goodbye. Used to their presence, Calum’s in particular. She swallowed the patheticness of it all.
He offered her a two fingered wave and a broad smile. “Hey! Glad to have the whole rink to yourself the whole time?” he asked, leaning his forearms against the wall.
“It’s so quiet,” she said, flashing him a wide grin.
Calum laughed, his head tilting back. “Aw! The princess misses the brutes!”
“Shut up,” she laughed with him, pink coloring her cheeks.
“You staying for the game?” he asked.
“Aw, the brute misses the princess, too!” she mocked. “I’m still undecided. Not the biggest fan of who you’re playing.”
“Oh yeah, some of ‘em used to play for your dad. Hmm… Damn, that’s something.”
“What?” she paused.
“Nothing,” he said with a small shake of his head. “Just wondering if it’s all connected. Must have been pretty bad if it is.”
She stiffened. “It’s none of your business, Hood.” The words came out colder and harsher than she had ever spoken to him before, even on that first meeting.
Calum raised his hands in surrender. “Not trying to make it my business. But I know it would mean a lot to the team if you could find the strength to stay. Hell, it would mean a lot to me.”
She would have teased him for that, and he knew she was about to based on how a slow smirk spread across her lips. But he was saved from the back and forth taunting as the rest of the team slowly started to trickle in. So Calum pounded his fists against the lip of the wall in two quick thuds. “Be real cool if you stayed,” he said before following his team towards the locker rooms.
Thea stayed frozen in place until Calum was out of her line of sight. She took a few deep cleansing breaths to steady her racing heart. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to give Donovan the satisfaction of thinking he had ruined her safe haven. But Calum wasn’t stupid. He knew too much. And while she had zero plans to interact with Donovan, on the off chance she did and Calum witnessed it, he would be able to put all the pieces together. She wasn’t sure which reality was worse: one where Calum knew the truth about why Coach Anderson had a brand new team and judged her for it, or pitied her for it. And if he shared any of his suspicions with the rest of the team…
She shook her head. No. She was certain that Calum had been honest when he told her he wasn’t trying to make her business his business. She had to put her trust in that. In him.
In the end she decided to stay, setting herself up right behind the players’ bench on the home team’s side. And she felt sure she had made the right choice by the excited smiles that lit up the team’s faces when they all came out. “Glad you stayed,” Calum told her, his gloved hand resting on top of hers. A brief moment of warmth that would have been over as quickly as it happened if it hadn’t been for a harsh bark of laughter.
Calum’s head whipped to the source of the sound, noting how Thea’s hand stiffened under his. “Estrada,” she said coldly.
Donovan ignored her, his sneer focused full force on Calum. “I’d be careful getting close to this one. Her daddy might trade you, too.”
“You got traded because you’re as shitty a player as you are a man,” Thea spat, the tightness in her body that once was fearful panic now tightly controlled anger.
Donovan’s hands clenched into fists and Thea laughed, an eerily lifeless sound that chilled Calum down to the bone. “Oh? You’re gonna hit me again, Donny? Go ahead. Seeing as how that worked out for you so well the last time.” Her voice was low and lethal as she took a dangerous step forward, leaning up on the tips of her toes to get as close to Donovan’s face as she could. “Be more than happy to break your nose again. Straighten it back out.”
Quick as a flash, Donovan’s hand snaked around Thea’s other wrist. And the way her breath hitched in pain was the final straw in this meeting for Calum. “Let her go,” he said with a steady calmness.
Donovan turned his attention back to Calum, hand still gripping Thea, a terribly cruel smile on his lips. “And what are you? My replacement? The princess’s bodyguard?”
“Nah, mate,” Calum replied, his tone almost bored. “Thea doesn’t need a bodyguard for one thing. And for another, I don’t play anybody’s replacement, especially not some shitty excuse for a man like yourself.”
Donovan dropped Thea’s wrist as more players from both teams started coming out of the locker rooms.
Thea watched the silent stand off between the men. Donovan’s face was twisted in a sneer, barely containing the rage radiating off him; Calum the epitome of relaxed ease, his anger tightly restrained. Two sides of the same coin. Thea cradled her wrist to her, the skin tender and red. She gave the barest shake of her head as Coach Anderson walked by, worry in his eyes.
“Count your days,” Donovon hissed after Coach Anderson passed before stalking off himself.
Thea felt her knees go weak. “Whoa, steady,” Calum said, his hands flying to her waist, his hold delicate. “Are you alright?”
Thea shook her head. “No. And I wouldn’t suggest making an enemy out of him. Not for my sake.”
“What if I wanted to make him an enemy for my sake?” Calum asked, the corners of his lips pulling up in a playful smirk.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice strong. “He’s part of my past for a reason. Leave it that way.”
Calum dropped the smirk. “With all due respect, I’m not sure if I can.” And without saying another word, or entertaining another argument from her on the matter, Calum walked off to join the rest of his team.
“That one,” Coach Anderson overheard as Calum fixed his stare on Donovan. “Number 83. Find any excuse to hit him. Hard.”
Ashton snorted, “And what could he have possibly done to already royally piss you off?”
“None of your damn business,” Calum snapped. “Hit him, or I’ll hit you into him, is that understood?”
Ashton clicked his tongue in his cheek, taking note of how Calum’s eyes flickered to watch Thea settle herself behind their bench, before flickering back over to Donovan. Watching. Studying. “What did he do to her?” Ashton asked, keeping his voice low.
“I’m not sure of all the details, but there was some sort of abuse.”
Ashton cracked his knuckles.
~~~
The game was brutal, even by hockey standards. The crowd cheered and winced whenever a player was slammed into the plexiglass barrier. No one seemed to note, however, that oftentimes it was Estrada who was shoved up against the wall. No one except those involved, and Thea.
Thea couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her as the plexiglass barrier in front of her shook with the force of Donovan being slammed into it.
The referee blew his whistle, calling a penalty on Calum for boarding. Calum merely shrugged as he skated off towards the penalty box, Donovan shooting daggers at him the whole time. Thea slowly made her way through the crowd to get closer to the penalty box. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at Calum.
“Playing,” he answered with that same bored tone.
She rolled her eyes. “I told you to leave him alone. You don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”
“And I told you,” Calum replied, his words coming out cold and harsh, “that I can’t let it go. And I can handle him.”
“Calum, please.”
The plea in her voice and body language irritated Calum. Thea was scared, and he hated it. “I’m sorry, Thea. I’m so sorry,” was all he said before he jumped back into the game.
“Calum!”
To his credit, Calum laid off Donovan for the remainder of the game. But Ashton and Luke picked up his slack, and Donovan still had it out for Calum.
Donovan bided his time, taking the hits from Ashton and Luke and adding it to the specific style of hell he would leash upon Calum, and when he saw his opening, he didn’t hesitate.
“Hood!” Calum heard the shouted warning moments before his head slammed into plexiglass.
Helmets clattered to the ice and a fist was on a collision course with his jaw. Calum never heard the whistle as he tackled Donovan onto the ice, both of their fists flying. If Donovan wanted a fight, he was gonna get a fight, consequences be damned. Calum didn’t care if he got thrown out of the game, if Coach Anderson benched him for the rest of the season, or if he even got blacklisted from the league entirely. All he cared about was making sure Donovan knew that there were no lengths Calum wouldn’t go through for Thea’s sake.
Calum wasn’t aware of Ashton and Luke physically dragging him away down towards the locker room, the rest of the team and the coaches following in a hurry. He wasn’t aware of anything except a blinding desire to go back out and finish his fight with Donovan. Nothing until Thea’s face appeared in his line of vision, worry making her eyebrows crease together.
“Oh, Calum,” she mused, her touch gentle as she traced the bruising on his face.
“You should see the other guy,” he tried to smirk. “And since when do you call me ‘Calum’?”
“That is your name, isn’t it?”
“You know what I mean.”
She sighed, and there was a beat of silence as the locker room emptied. “Why’d you do it?” she asked, her voice a low whisper despite them now being alone.
“It’s stupid to explain. But I feel… protective of you, in a way I don’t fully understand. I don’t know the full history between you and Estrada, and it makes no difference to me if you tell me it all, or you don’t. Well it does make a difference, but not that way, if that makes sense. Like I still would want to beat him to a pulp. I still do want to beat him to a pulp. I want to make him pay for every ounce of hurt he ever caused you because I’m not the type to stand to the side. And the way you reacted around Estrada… I know I would do anything to make sure nobody ever makes you feel that way because… because you, Thea, are… you’re…”
“I’m what?”
“You are… unexpected. In the best way possible. Every time I think I got you figured out, you find a new way to surprise me. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you feel that I don’t think you can handle your own shit.”
She pondered on his words, saw the sincerity in his face, his beautifully bloodied face. “You’re right. That was stupid to explain.”
Calum scowled as much as he could. “Gee, thanks. Pouring my heart out over here.”
“Pouring your heart out? ‘Sorry I pummeled your ex during a game where I’m supposed to be a professional, but you’re just so unexpected!” she mocked, batting her eyes at him for extra effect.
He chuckled. “I didn’t say I was sorry for fighting him. I said I was sorry if you found me defending you offensive.”
“Well I accept your apology, Calum.”
“That’s four times now you’ve actually called me by my name. You can’t tell me that’s coincidental.”
Thea shrugged “I’m unexpected, what can I say?” Then, her lips brushed lightly against Calum’s cheek. “And for what it’s worth, I care about you, too. More than I ever thought I could care about a hockey br— Sorry. Hockey player. Not brute. Matter of fact, let’s just agree that I’ll never call you a brute again, so long as you never call me a princess.”
“Deal,” Calum easily agreed, as his playful nickname for her had been tainted the moment in rolled off Donovan’s lips with such disgust. “And Thea? Provided I’m not about to walk out of here and lose my job, and uh, maybe after my face heals up, would you maybe wanna go out to dinner?”
“You owe me a rematch on that race, first. And if you win, then you can take me out.”
“And if I lose?”
“I don’t see that happening.”
__
Tag List
@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @hoodhoran @metalandboybands @maybeememez @1weekago @simpracha @binxiboo @xxxlaura @victoria432stuff @maedesculpaeusoubi @hfkait @moviefangirl17 @vc55bughead
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calumhoodoficcial · 3 years
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I am trying to process the fact that calum appeared and that ashton is not giving this content and vice versa, god looks so beautiful
CASHTON RESTART MY LIFE
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suitelifeofpaige · 3 years
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among us today with my faves @soggyburgers and @thebonzifonzibrothers !!!
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sarahlovesmusic · 3 years
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i can’t believe he’s 25 already 🥺 so proud of cal and everything he’s accomplished
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louisttxmlinson · 4 years
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🥰🥰
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itsafailedginger · 4 years
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uhm, i miss ashton irwin wearing bandanas.
that's it, that's the post.
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calpeachyhood · 4 years
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does anyone remember this?
i think about it at least once a day
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saintlaurentcalum · 5 years
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5sos doesnt get the recognition they deserve for actually creating real music. they taught themselves to play their instruments and wrote all their own songs. theyre hated on by people who dont take in the fact that their music is literally theirs. its not ghost written, they come up with all the instrumentals. music on the radio nowadays is so over produced, its so professional that its no longer raw or has emotion. thanks for coming to my ted talk.
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the5sosdumpster · 6 years
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you’re welcome
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movingalong · 5 years
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Hey guys! I love doing playlists for the boys’ birthdays so here’s my playlist for Calum’s! If you’re interested in listening click here
(Check out my friends at @dont-stop-giving to donate to their charity drive for the ASPCA in honor of Calum’s 23rd Birthday HERE)
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emochachinugget · 5 years
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What if 5SOS is making their album covers based off the Don't Stop vid?
Selftitled- SmAsh
SGFG- CalPal
YB-Mikrowave
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calpalirwin · 2 months
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Addicted to Sound
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Summary: When a classic violinist clashes with a rock drummer, things are bound to be messy.
Word Count: 2.7k
And away, and away we go!
__
Dean was more than surprised to find a car already in the parking lot of Fowler’s Strings when he arrived. And his surprise turned to curiosity when he didn’t recognize the vehicle despite the man sitting at the wheel looking vaguely familiar. He shook off the feeling, chalking it up to another generic pretty white boy face, slipping back into his normal demeanor. 
The man in the car didn’t move as Dean tucked his motorcycle helmet under his left arm, right hand going for a set of keys clipped to the side of his backpack. Only after Dean unlocked the building to let himself in did the man in the car start to move to get out. 
“Morning, what can I help you with?” Dean called out to the man when he finally made his way inside the building. 
“You’re not Dean Fowler by any chance are you?”
He stiffened ever so slightly as he set his backpack down behind his desk and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of his chair. “That would depend on who’s asking,” Dean answered cautiously. 
The man gave a small, almost apologetic laugh. “Sorry. I, um… my band… well management really…” he loosed a sigh, frustrated with himself for fumbling with words like an idiot. “My band is doing a show, and my management hired your company as part of the vision we had for this show.”
“Ah,” Dean said knowingly. “So you wanted to come and do your own research. Make sure we’re up to your standards.”
“Heh,” the man ducked his head. “Well in part, yes. But also… and I’m aware of how absurd this will sound. But I used to know someone named Dean Fowler back when I was a kid. And part of me is curious if it’s the same Dean Fowler.”
“Well, yes I’m Dean. However, I didn’t grow up here, so I’m sure it’s just a mere coincidence.”
“I didn’t grow up here either. I’m Ashton. Irwin, if that helps jog your memory any.”
Much to Dean’s dismay it did. A flash of a scrawny boy with a straightened blond fringe. Then more flashes, some good, some worse, of memories spent with that boy. Dean blinked, the flashes fading and in its place stood Ashton as he was now. Scrawny frame filled out with broad muscle. Blonde fringe replaced with soft brown curls. And his face, even more handsome in adulthood with stubble now decorating that strong jaw. “Well… we’re both a long way from home, huh?”
Ashton laughed. “Yeah. Yeah I guess you could say that.” A large hand rose to rub at the back of his neck. “So…”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Dean cut in. “We don’t have to do whatever this,” he waved a hand in a vague gesture, “is. Let’s agree to leave what happened when we were kids in the past where it belongs. I know I’ve changed since then. You’ve…” another vague hand gesture at Ashton’s body “clearly changed a lot as well. So let’s just attend to the matter at hand, and take it from there.”
Ashton’s face fell for a fraction of a second before he nodded. “Yeah. That’s… yeah.”
Dean loosed a sigh. He didn’t want to come off as dick. But he wasn’t exactly inclined to walk down memory lane with Ashton either. What was so wrong with wanting to do the job at hand and then go back to forgetting about his former friend turned lover turned stranger? “I didn’t mean it like that,” Dean started to amend, “I only meant that we could have a clean slate. Start fresh, or whatever.”
Ashton merely nodded again, slowly turning over the words in his head. “Yeah, makes sense. But damn, I must’ve played this out a million times in my head about what I would say or do if I walked in here and it was actually you. And…” his voice trailed off in a huff of breath. “I dunno,” Ashton’s shoulders shrugged. “It probably doesn’t mean a whole lot, and it’s way overdue, but I am sorry for how things were before.”
The corner of Dean’s mouth pulled up slightly in a sad half smile. “Yeah. Me too, Ash, me too. Um…” Dean drummed his fingers on his desk, wiggling his mouse to wake up his computer. His tongue clicked in his mouth, making idle noise to pass the time as he pulled up a file on the screen. “Okay, so it looks like your management sent the set list. Did they send the…” another click had another file opening up. “Perfect. Okay, so,” Dean’s eyes lifted from the computer to Ashton, “my team and I are gonna look this over and see what we can do with it. Then we’ll bring you guys so we can hash out any other details or deal with any changes, and then we can start rehearsals. Any questions?”
“How long do you think it will take your team to come up with your additions?”
Dean clicked his tongue some more in thought. “Like a week tops, hopefully. I’ll keep your management up to date.”
“So I’m supposed to sit on my ass and do what exactly? Hope you’ll call me?”
It took everything in Dean’s power to remain professional. “No, of course not. You’re in London. Enjoy it. Do literally anything that will keep your mind off of me calling you. Because, I’ll grant you the courtesy of informing you now. I won’t be calling you. I’ll be calling your management.”
Ashton drummed his fingers against his thighs, blowing out a huff of air slowly, no doubt trying to ignore the obvious phone call dig. “Fine. Just, uh, try not to keep us waiting too long, Fowler. The venue only gave us a handful of dates so the sooner we can lock one in, the better.”
“Keep you waiting? Wouldn’t dream of it, Irwin,” Dean smiled sweetly.
~~~
Dean felt his temper rising with each second that ticked by on the clock. Tick! He’s not coming. Tock! Why did he think he would?
So when his phone finally did ring, shattering the silence, Dean all but jumped out his own skin before answering. “About time,” he said, doing his best to keep his irritation out of his voice.
“I know. I messed up. I’m sorry. I’m on my way though, okay. Just… like gimme five more minutes. Please?” Ashton’s voice replied, rushed rather than apologetic.
“Don’t bother. Just do whatever you want. I’m done.”
“What?”
Even Dean faltered for a second, unsure of what he was saying. “I— You— You promised me, Ash. You swore this wasn’t gonna change anything between us. That we were still gonna be us. And sure, at the time, you probably meant every word. But…” he sniffed as a tear slid down his nose. “I can’t keep putting my life on pause for you.”
“I never asked you to.”
“I know, but—”
“But what, Dean?! You can’t handle not being the only important thing in my life?! I have a future to think about here!”
“A future that doesn’t include me.”
“What are you saying?” The question came out broken and horrified.
“I’m saying— I love you, okay? So much that I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to stop. But I can’t keep waiting for you to love me back.”
“I do love you! I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”
“But you’re not with me, Ash! Maybe emotionally. But physically and mentally, you left me a long time ago.”
“Dean, please!”
“Don’t call me.”
“Dean!”
The line went dead. And by the time Ashton made it to their meet up spot, Dean was nowhere to be found.
~~~
Aside from the ending, Dean had been one of Ashton’s better relationships. Carefree, easy days playing music and doing homework together. A million little moments that turned into shy confessions and led to kissing in the back row at the movies and promises of forever. A promise Ashton intended to keep, right up until he didn’t.
Ashton shook the thoughts from his head. Replaying a relationship that had ended over a decade ago wasn’t gonna do him any good. And yet, he couldn’t help it. Walking into that studio and seeing Dean again, different but somehow still the same, had opened up the memories whether Ashton wanted it or not.
He didn’t fault Dean for breaking things off, not back then and certainly not now. They hadn’t been anything more than kids. And life seemed to had been kind to both of them since then. Could a clean slate lead to a new chance? One that Ashton wouldn’t fuck up this time. Or had Dean meant a clean slate in that he wanted to treat this strictly as a professional relationship, get the job done, and go back to forgetting Ashton? He supposed in some part it didn’t matter. That sitting here, spinning through all the what ifs was a giant waste of time. But he somehow found himself focusing on the words “I love you, okay? So much that I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to stop,” and wondering if that was still true. And if it was still true, what did that mean for them now that they had each grown up a little bit more? And if it wasn’t true…
Ashton shook his head again.
~~~
“A band? Like an actual band?” Dean asked skeptically.
Ashton’s eyes shifted to study the ground. “Yeah. I mean they play shows and stuff. Nothing big yet. But who knows, you know? Maybe one day…”
“Maybe one day you guys will be huge stars and I’ll be…” 
“Hopefully right there with me?” Ashton asked, lifting his gaze to meet Dean’s, teeth nipping into his lower lip. 
Dean just arched an eyebrow. “You would want that?”
Ashton gripped Dean’s hands in his tightly. “Of course I do! What?” Ashton laughed. “You think I would choose anything for my life that didn’t include you? Dean, I love you. And anything this world is gonna be crazy enough to throw at me, I want you right there with me.”
Dean allowed himself a smile, to fully believe in what Ashton was telling him. “It’ll always be us?”
“Always. Promise.”
~~~
Dean rubbed his eyes. It had been a foolish promise. One he had willed himself to believe in at the time because what was the alternative when you were seventeen and in love?
It hadn’t all been Ashton’s fault. Dean had been just as idyllic about the thought of spending forever with Ashton, chasing music dream after music dream together. Until the doubt and insecurities became too much to handle and he ran. So no, it hadn’t all been Ashton’s fault, because it was never his fault at all. Ashton would have continued to fight for them until his last breath. But Dean had picked the coward’s way out and pushed the blame on Ashton anyway. And Ashton, bless his heart, had let it happen.
And for what? For both of them to chase their music dreams separately and still find a way back into each other’s lives? There was no way that could be a mere coincidence. Something much larger than Dean could ever fathom was at play here. Fate. Destiny. Whatever it was, Dean wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
Dean pulled out his phone and dialed.
“Hello?” Ashton’s voice answered, polite but unsure of who was calling.
“Hey,” Dean replied. “It’s me. It’s uh, sorry, it’s Dean.”
“Oh! Yeah, hey. I uh, wasn’t expecting you to call, sorry,” Ashton nervously laughed. 
“To be fair, I told you not to expect me,” Dean laughed with him.
“You guys are ready with the arrangements already?” Ashton asked incredulously. “Damn, I can see why my management picked you guys.”
“What? No. I—" Dean huffed another laugh. “Sorry, I should explain why I’m calling you. It’s uh… Well, it’s personal, I guess? I— God, I feel so ridiculous. I—” he paused, letting out a long sigh, using the time to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say. 
“Dean?” Ashton asked, voice tinged with concern. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I just… I keep thinking, and um… are you free to meet for coffee or something? This is a conversation probably better had in person.”
“Oh? Uh… yeah. Yeah, I can meet you somewhere. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
~~~
Ashton tried to keep his nerves in check as he waited inside the coffee shop for Dean to arrive. It took every ounce of patience he had to remain where he was when he saw Dean in the parking lot, tucking a motorcycle helmet under his arm before striding towards the door. The tightness in his chest gave way to instant relief when Dean flashed him a huge grin, crossing the room quickly to him. “Hey, thanks for meeting me,” Dean rushed out as he set his motorcycle helmet down on the table. 
“Yeah, of course. So what’s up? You sounded like whatever you wanted to talk about is pretty serious.”
Dean’s face flushed, as both men settled into their seats. “It’s actually kind of stupid. But remember how I told you that we should leave our past in the past and just have a clean slate?”
Ashton felt the tightness in his chest return as he nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’m struggling with doing that more than I thought. Like, if someone had asked me a few days ago how I felt about you, I would easily say that you were someone who was part of my past, and I’ve made my peace with it.”
“And now?” Ashton prompted after a few beats of silence. 
“Now I’m confused. The way we ended wasn’t your fault. The blame lies completely with me. I was the one who couldn’t handle my inner demons and I took the easy way out. And even today, it’s clear I still have some bitterness about how we ended because I’ve kind of been a dick to you under the guise of cold professionalism. And that bitterness is misplaced. It’s my own demons that have now turned into regret, and it’s not fair for me to have projected that onto you.”
“Well, while I appreciate that, I’m still partly to blame. I got tunnel-visioned in chasing my music dream with the guys, and I unintentionally stopped viewing you as a priority. And you were right to call me out for it and demand more for yourself.”
“You didn’t deserve for me to throw it all away, though.”
Ashton shrugged. “And you didn’t deserve for me to cast you aside to push you into thinking walking away was the only option.”
“And while I’m glad we’re at a place now where we can have a mature conversation about this, I’m still confused about where this leaves us. Because I don’t want a fresh start. I want a do over. I want the chance I ran away from.”
Ashton let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank, God,” he laughed. “Because I have not been able to get you out of my head since I suggested your company to my management,” he confessed.
“Since you what?” Dean asked incredulously. “You suggested my company to your management? Which meant you knew it was me?”
Ashton’s face flushed. “Well it didn’t start out that way. But once I saw the name, I got curious. And… I mean I can’t say that I was ever okay with how things ended between us. It fuckin’ destroyed me, and to always have this nagging thought that it could have been avoided… You’re the only boy I’ve ever been in love with, Dean. And one of the last things you said to me was how you didn’t think you’d ever stop loving me. And I didn’t realize how much I’d been holding onto that hope until I found you again.”
Dean felt his heart start to race in his chest. “So… if I want a do over, and you also want a do over… that leaves us where, exactly?”
“Hopefully right about here?” Ashton asked before one of his hands was reaching across the table, two fingers hooking under Dean’s chin to pull him in for a kiss.
__
Tag List
@aquarius-hood1996 @creator-appreciator @philthepegacorn @myfavfanficsever @youngblood199456 @stormrider505 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @metalandboybands @maybeememez @binxiboo @victoria432stuff @maedesculpaeusoubi @hfkait @vc55bughead
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incorrectdan · 6 years
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Ash x Calum
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bbylonxcal · 6 years
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Calum on his IG story
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islandprincess-xx · 6 years
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I just want to hug them both... Maybe hug Luke.. And kiss Calum endlessly
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imbuyingacalumhood · 6 years
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Why doesn't Michael face the camera?
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