♡︎ Matt Sturniolo Centric One-Shots ♡︎

Hockey Injury {Nick, Chris & Matt}

It's noticeable that Matt is getting steadier while out on the ice rink, motions more fluent. Movement more unapologetic and far more confident than what it once was.

Well, fluent isn't the right word considering his brother's been that. Had been that for a while now so maybe that's misleading.

The confidence though? That comment still applies, truth is, Matt's always been steady on the ice, it's just that this confidence is something new. It's something reserved, something he's only seen the other have during hockey matches. Chris's just glad to see it at all. Glad to see it lighting up his brother's face like a sunbeam.

It's nice to see because out here Matt Sturniolo is in his element, more confident than Chris has ever seen his brother. Always moving with a touch of grace, always gliding and weaving through the rink like the brunette is floating, jumping like the elder is weightless. In fact, Matt may even be doing that more than usual, as Chris watches his brother and the hockey stick slide across the rink.

But the main reason Chris can't shake the smile off his face isn't because Matt's doing good on the ice, though his brother is, it's because Matt's not caring about doing good on the ice. It's natural, his brother is smiling, eyes scrunched, and for once not tense, like the other's bracing for a blow that's in the process of landing. Instead, Matt's posture as well as shoulders are loose, smile is easy and Matt is as featherlight as one could possibly be.

Chris watches as Matt swipes the puck from another player and the beaming grin that he shoots over his shoulder is bright enough to warm the rink.

And then Christopher remembers that the player his brother had just swiped from is on his team.

And Chris, Chris's competitive. He can't help himself and Matt doesn't help that streak of competitiveness either. Almost as if on queue, Matt's eyes flash challengingly at him. All while the brunette skates up toward Chris, who's playing goalie until the next round. As Chris observes he notices that Matt's glides are a little stilted, and the grip on the hockey stick isn't as firm as it could be, but Matt's darting up the rink nonetheless. Fast-paced and frenzied like a bullet. And Chris isn't here to be giving pointers, that could be saved until after the game. For now, Chris just needs to be the one to block his brother's movements.

But he's thinking about that smile, about how far they've come from Matt just being the boy who didn't want to go to school, about the fact that his brother had worked up the courage to join hockey. And how fucking nice it is to hear Matt's laughter ring freely across the rink. It's melodious, and carefree.

He wants to hear more, wants to up the stakes so that his brother's really enjoying the game.
And maybe that's why he's not thinking when he kicks his feet off the ice, propelling himself toward his triplet. He's prepared to swoop in front of Matt and cleanly block the shot, that's all.

Except he's not thinking when he whips to the side with his shoulder braced unconsciously.

He's not thinking when he cuts Matt off -because if he had been, he would know that he hadn't given his brother enough time to react. That his elder brother is not familiar enough with his play style to compensate for Chris's sudden movements. That obviously Matt wouldn't know how to react to him jolting in front of the brunette, too quick to avoid.

Because if there were even a second he had been thinking, then what happened next would never have happened. The collision could've all have been prevented if only he hadn't been an idiot. A total and utterly impulsive idiot.

But he had, he hadn't thought of the repercussions of his actions and now he was seeing the consequences. Was seeing firsthand how it wasn't him who they'd hurt, but Matt.