26: Once Again, We All Pity the Swede Who's Allergic to Shellfish (poor guy)

ROCKET

So it was another two full hours.

I don't even know I have no idea, I cannot even conceptualize what on earth the dude could've been talking about for another two full hours and all that but it was cute and fun and fine and whatever.

And now the... after stuff.

Which leaves us here. HÃ¥kon explained that Leo and Isa were going to go take more photos and then have some time together to recharge and get some rest before joining us at dinner and that means we need to burn some time as a wedding party.

"Is this-" I take a second sip. "Oh no it's non-alcoholic."

HÃ¥kon smiles, shaking his head. "It's like 6pm, Milo, there's a reason."

"Unfair," I sigh, leaning against the counter across from him, admiring for a moment. Lanky and tall and all that muscle just perfectly distributed across him, the peak of athleticism. His thighs look a little funny in the dress pants but most of ours do, that's just the curse of hockey thighs. One of his arms is folded across his chest, the other is holding a tiny (tiny) glass of water. The folded arm is creasing and bunching the sleeve of his suit all nice across his bicep and-

"What are you staring at? Do I have something in my teeth?" He closes his mouth, sucking his tongue along them, trying to figure it out for himself.

"Uh, no," I respond, dragging my eyes up and over his shoulders and to all of his white white white hair. "You just look good."

"Huh?"

"Good," I say, a slight bit louder over the bustle of the little snack-hour everyone is having. "You look nice."

"Thank you," he nods. "You too." He opens his mouth to say something else but I startle before he can warn me.

"Och vem är du?" It's an old lady with the same eyes that look so good on Håkon but so vehemently terrifying on her.

"Uh," I pause. Vem means who, and then then är du sounds like 'are you' so I'm gonna go with that, and maybe och means and. "I'm one of Isa's friends, I'm on the same team as him over in Canada." I nod over at Håkon. This answer seems to be drawing the least attention. 'Friend of Isa's' gets way less negative feedback than 'friend of Håkon's' because then at least there's a reason I'm at the wedding other than keeping the bride's brother company.

She nods, then, in an accent worse than literally anything I've heard in the NHL: "what's your name?"

"Miloš," I respond. "Mostly everyone calls me Rocket, though."

"Where are you from?" She's definitely trying to make conversation, I dunno why, but she's trying. I'll entertain.

"Originally I'm from the Czech Republic but I've been living in Canada for ten years."

She nods. "How did you meet Isa?"

"Through him, actually," I tip my head at HÃ¥kon who's watching very warily. I would assume he's less willy-nilly with his family than I am. "We met in the fall on accident because I was over at his house in Canada and he was on the phone with her. Kinda a funky story but it's alright."

The lady nods. "So you play with him?"

"Yeah, I'm a goalie."

She smiles at this, eyes lighting up. "Ah! Paxton!"

HÃ¥kon bites back a laugh.

"Uh, no, actually, I'm the other one. Stojanovič." I shrug. "We're about the same size and build though, so I can see where it gets messed up. Two very similar nondescript white guys."

She frowns. "We only ever hear about Paxton here."

"Yeah, he's Hall of Fame good, it would make sense. Anyway..."

She nods. "How old are you? You seem young."

"I'm only 23," I shrug. "About two and a half years younger than HÃ¥kon."

She nods again. "You are on the younger side of adults here, the next youngest is only 10."

I frown. "No way, there's nobody between 23 and 10?"

She shakes her head. "No, Logan and Anne are HÃ¥kon's youngest cousins."

"How old are his oldest cousins?"

"40 and 42."

I fight to keep my jaw firmly connected to my head. "How- that's a wide range, huh."

She looks over at my boyfriend. "HÃ¥kon's father was one of eight, a good large family."

I pause. "E-eight?"

"Yes?" She raises her eyebrows at me. "How many were in your parents?"

"Two and three," I mumble, eyes flickering up to HÃ¥kon's. He shrugs. "Eight is... quite the handful."

"Well, that's what a good wife is for." She shrugs. "I took care of my six just fine."

"Six?"

"Yes, dear," she pats me on the arm like she's blissfully confused as to why I don't seem to understand. "I keep telling HÃ¥kon here that he needs to find a nice strong smart wife to have a big family with. Some of those girlfriends you guys get over there, hm."

I purse my lips to keep them from cracking into a smile. "He's got good luck with girls in Canada," I start, eyeing him. "It's something about the little Swedish charm in him that really brings them in."

"Oh?" She turns to HÃ¥kon.

"He's-" HÃ¥kon tries to start off to tell her I'm lying but I cover for him.

"And he's just so polite with them too, it's a wonder he hasn't brought anyone home yet. The girls really dig the white hair."

"It was always a Rex trait to go white that young, but I've never heard of anyone being attracted to it." She says thoughtfully.

"Oh yeah, they're all over in Canada, something about the way he's able to pull all of that together? I dunno, there's just something that gets people and drags 'em in. We don't like bringing him out anymore because none of the rest of us get any shots at anyone."

"Milo-" HÃ¥kon starts to scold again.

"Shh, you know I'm right," I laugh. "Well, it was good meeting you, but I have to use the bathroom," I say to the lady.

"Good to meet you too," she says, wandering off toward another little group.

I give him a cheeky little smile before wandering toward the house. His parents are hosting the whole entire reception which is honestly a feat in itself but their house is big and their yard is huge and the perfect type of thing for this.

I hear his footsteps behind me, the heels of his dress shoes clicking on the stone walkway.

"HÃ¥kon," I throw over my shoulder, hands in my pockets. "Someone's gonna get suspicious."

He doesn't respond and for a moment I think I've just outed myself to one of his family members wearing heels or something (why you would do that when grass is involved, I dunno) but the second I pull open the sliding door there's a hand looped around my stomach and he's mumbling something under his breath.

"Are you mad I talked you up in front of whoever that was?" I smile.

"That was my great aunt and no, not really, I'm just following you so you don't end up bothering Isa and Leo, they're above us."

I nod. "Alrighty, then, sure you are."

"Also because you're driving me fucking crazy in that suit vest." He mumbles. "Bathroom's right there, I'm gonna be in the kitchen getting a snack that isn't gonna make Nico cringe from Colorado. Our diets are gonna need a hard reset when we get back home."

"You know I didn't have to go to the bathroom, right?" I say. "I was trying to escape. But on that note can you show me the snacks. I've been trying not to eat too many of those little fried thingies that taste a little like oysters but I'm not su-" I pause. "You're allergic to shellfish, aren't you."

He's just staring at me. "Yeah those are oyster and yeah I'm allergic."

"Fuck," I laugh. "Like, if I kissed you, would you have an issue?"

"My mouth will probably swell up, yes."

"Oh my god you're so lucky I didn't do what I was planning on doing when I got you in here," I glance at the bathroom door. "Oooh boy."

"Well, I uh, I'm glad you didn't drag me in there and kiss me," he stifles a laugh. "Would've had to bullshit why I had anything shellfish in my mouth."

"That's so unfortunate," I mumble under my breath. "Now I gotta choose between the best fried oysters I've had in my entire life and my kissing my devilishly handsome boyfriend." I look to him. "I'm gonna go with the oysters for the time being."

He shakes his head, handing me a glass of water from their kitchen sink. "You're washing out your mouth with mouthwash the second we get back to the cabin. I refuse to have an allergic reaction the day of my sister's wedding."

I smile, throwing my arms up around his shoulders and giving him a quick hug, wary of the company outside. "I promise I won't make your dick swell up from any shellfish remnants in my teeth."

I can feel him trying not to laugh.

***

i feel like this story is moving real slow but i swear after the next like chapter it picks up again

anyway

-rabid