Jonathan was in the penalty box for punching another guy. But the guy had been intentionally fucking with Fong, their best player. So those few minutes spent pacing, waiting, they were worth it. He let his helmet rest on the bench and he ran his hands through his sweaty hair as he watched the nimble and skilled Asian dance through their foes with such ease. It kind of turned him on. Fong juked them, making the puck shoot out behind them while he swung around to catch up with it again. He was flawless.

Until that asshole came up behind him. Jonathan jumped to his feet as his timer reached ten seconds. He was itching to get out and he watched the guy clip Fong's skate with his stick. They both went down right at the goal, wiping out the goalie and the net all in one go.

The ref opened the door for Jonathan just as soon as he saw red. So much fucking red he could practically smell the blood from where he was on the ice. He felt the hair stand on his head and he knew right then. He dropped his helmet, his stick, his self control. His feet carried him faster than they ever had to the other side of the rink, shoving whoever was in his way.

"EVAN!" He screamed and he could hear every other sound fade away until there was nothing but the heartbeat in his ears. "Get out of the way!"

He pulled at the fucker that was half laying on top of Evan and the goalie and shoved him to the side. That's when the Asian moved, his weak fingers struggling with the helmet on his head. He pushed it off and Jonathan panicked. Blood was pouring profusely from the massive gash in his neck from that guy's skate when they fell. It hit an artery.

Jonathan tuned everything else out and shoved Evan's hands away and pulled his own gloves off before pressing down on the wound as well as he could to slow the bleeding. It was so warm and Evan was staring at him like he was only thing he could see. Which under the circumstances, he might have been. His eyes started to roll and Jonathan's heart skipped.

"Hey! Hey! Look at me, man!" He tried and Evan blinked hard. "Evan, just stay awake, please. I'm fucking begging you."

Jonathan felt a firm hand on his shoulder and looked back to see the entirety of the two teams huddled around them and the medic right beside him with a stretcher. "You're doing great son. Don't move your hand. Keep talking to him."

He gave a nod and turned back to Evan who was pale. "You're alright. You're gonna be alright."

Then they lined the stretcher up beside him and he held his hand down while the men moved Evan over and the team helped him to his feet when everyone stood. Someone even took his skates off when they got off the ice.

So there he was in his hockey gear in the back of a cramped ambulance talking to his crush while he held his life in his hands. But Evan never closed his eyes. "You're gonna make it. You wanna know how I know?"

Evan blinked weakly in response. Jonathan grinned. "Because I still have to pluck up the courage to ask you out to dinner. You seem like the kind of guy who likes to go see a scary movie in theaters on the first date and then go eat an entire pizza. Play some Call of Duty late night and tell me really embarrassing stories about yourself."

Evan's fingers flinched and his heartbeat spiked on the monitor for a moment. Jonathan smiled and the ambulance stopped. As he ran barefoot with the doctors down the hall to the operating room, he felt Evan's hand squeezing his shirt in his fist and he really didn't want to leave when they got there.

"Alright, now quickly pull your hand back and I'm going to go in." The doctor nodded at him and Jonathan finally removed his hand. His hand that was dark with blood, the iron biting at his senses.

He didn't know how long he sat there in the hall with his head in his hands, but it was long enough that the team was there and his buddy Marcel was standing beside him telling him he had blood all over his face. Then he pulled him to the bathrooms and helped him out of his gear, washed his hands and face with a wet shirt.

"He's gonna make it." Marcel whispered, but it still echoed.

"Yeah….."

Jonathan stayed for hours. He stayed for so long that his eyes were dry and the sun was peeking into the hallway. He stayed until he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore and he woke up laying across the seats with jerseys laying over him as a blanket. He grinned and then remembered why he was there and ran down to the room he'd left Evan in to find it empty.

He chased down a nurse, "Hey! Hi! Sorry, hello. Have you seen the guy with the slashed throat? The hockey player?"

She blinked and his heart sank briefly before she smiled and took his hand, guiding him down a few hallways into a recovery ward and left him there. There was one curtain drawn beside a bed and he stepped over silently and pulled it back gently to find that same pretty Asian asleep. Alive.

His legs felt like jelly and he sank into the chair beside him, rubbing at his eyes that decided they needed to tear up right then and there. He breathed heavily trying not to sob out loud. But Evan was such a great guy, such a good friend to him and he'd known him for a while now. He never deserved this. He'd almost lost him before he ever got to see if he could have him.

A soft voice startled him. "Hey."

Jonathan jumped and sat up in the chair, taking the hand that Evan held out. "Hey…."

"I heard … you saved my life." Evan smiled but then winced.

Jonathan chuckled, "I guess I finally did something right, huh?"

Evan turned his head and met his eyes. "Have you plucked up the courage yet?"

Jonathan blinked back the shock, but then he grinned. "I think so."

"Because I've been waiting for like a fucking year, dude." He broke into another smile and squeezed his hand a little harder. "It only took me getting a skate to the throat for you to do it."

"You're such a little bitch." Jonathan said but it didn't have any bite to it. It was how they bickered, tenderly with a hint of affection. He let his thumb rub slow soft circles over Evan's hand as they sat there in silence, soaking up each others presence when they heard footsteps and then a too familiar voice.

Marcel cupped his hands around his mouth, "He wants the D, Evan!"

Jonathan didn't say anything, he just smiled and shook his head before he let his head rest next to Evan's leg as he looked up at him. Evan ran his hand through his hair and Jonathan sighed. "It's true."

Evan bit back a smile, "Likewise."